


Take It From The Top

by SpaceDarling_and_GrumpyCat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Acting Coach Coran, Action, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Actors, Angst, Because what else would he be, Bottom Keith, Drama, F/F, Gay Keith, Interviews, Keith craves food like all the time cause he's a hungry boi, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance That's Gay, Lance is a bi disaster, Lesbian Allura, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Over Dramatized Acting, Pardon, Smut, Smut...?, Tipsy Lance, We toe the fine line between crack and smut, Wine Drunk Lance, come on guys, drunk keith, fluff?, mentions of fisting, non-binary Pidge, poor lance, seriously, so much drama, you could eat it with a spoon, you know us
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-25 02:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17112755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceDarling_and_GrumpyCat/pseuds/SpaceDarling_and_GrumpyCat
Summary: Hollywood, the city of the silver screen. Right now, it's home to Lance and Keith, both up and coming actors working together in the film LionHeart. Directed by the once famous Takashi Shirogane, it's supposed to be the biggest blockbuster of the year.Key phrase there: Supposed to be.Unfortunately, not everyone is completely on board with making this a smashing success. Namely, the two stars of the whole movie. Maybe, if they could get their act together and find some of that sweet sweet onscreen chemistry, things would be going better.But this is Lance and Keith we're talking about, we'll be lucky if they don't strangle each other.





	1. Once more, with FEELING!

**Author's Note:**

> SO, there's a story behind this one. sorta.
> 
> Blaine and I were scrolling through Instagram together and the artist Kiilea had someone on her story talking about an actor AU. Needless to say, we were inspired. 
> 
> Thankfully, this isn't taking much editing, so hopefully, there will be more soon!
> 
> Otherwise, Enjoy!

_With a loud yell, Lance lunged forward and hooked a hand around a support beam._

_The whole building groaned, as if in pain, and listed dramatically to the side. Everything in the room started shifting towards the blown out windows, falling down the many stories to the unforgiving ground below. Eyes flying around the scene, Lance watched as the remainder of the goons they'd been fighting slid past him, each falling to their respective deaths with long, drawn-out screams of terror. A momentary flash of guilt flew through him at their gruesome ends, but it was quickly replaced by the sense that justice had finally been met out._

They fired first, after all.

_As the building continued to lean, Lance let out a yell as his grip almost slipped before he managed to catch himself. Turning his head sharply, the brunet cried out, "Get fucked!” Expression turning to a grimace, the brunet said, “Now all we have to do is-" Then he stopped, because he suddenly was forced to realize that something was horribly wrong. "T-Tanner?? TANNER!!"_

_Across the room, Keith's nails scrabbled against the semi-rotten shelving unit that had previously been bolted down to the floor, the sudden shift in gravity yanking it from its home.  His grip was slipping. Cold panic was slicing through his veins as he fought for purchase, managing to pull himself up a few inches, before the building lurched once more and he was thrown down to the next shelf._  

No...not like this _._

_He heard the screams of the men they had fought, lives ended in a matter of seconds, their existence snuffed out by the karma they had incurred.  Accompanying those thoughts was the certainty that before long, he would join them._

_Turning horror filled eyes upwards, the noirette caught sight of his partner, his friend.  "AARON!" Those blue eyes shot to his. Momentarily, relief at seeing the man alive and relatively unharmed warmed his limbs, gave him extra strength.  But it didn't last, for he saw that the brunet was in no better shape than him, his balance off kilter as he attempted to keep a hold on the beam. "A-Aaron, go back!"_

_"TANNER, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE!" Getting a better hold on his beam, Lance stared down at Keith, who was quickly slipping towards the yawning void below. Desperation setting in, Lance wildly snagged onto a sliding desk so he could leap to the next support beam. As this one groaned under his weight as well, the brunet reached out to Keith, his eyes wide, wild._

_"What the hell man, you can't just tell me to leave,” Lance said, incredulously. “I don't work like that. We don't work like that." But even as he spoke, Keith slipped further, the cheap particle board crumbling under his fingers. Before Lance could do anything, the man slipped, and with a yell, he fell towards the window. For a moment, Lance was terrified that he'd lost his closest friend forever, but then one of Keith's hands managed to flail out and snag a loose beam. All this did, however, was prolong the inevitable._

_"Fuck-!" With a shout, Lance slid down the sloped carpet floor, rocketing towards Keith. Catching a sturdy, low wall with a hand, the brunet reached out desperately, even though he was still too far away to reach the noirette. "Don't let go, buddy," Lance all but begged, his eyes scanning their crumbling surroundings for any safe way out. "C'mon, we- we're gonna get out of this!"_

_"I'm not gon--!"  Keith started to yell back, but his grip slipped again.  His hands were so tired. After the firefight, the exchange of blows from earlier, and the pressure of holding up his own body weight, they were stripped of any strength.  He tried to find his grip once more, nails scraping against the wooden beam. But he couldn’t swing his arm up enough to grab on. Keith couldn’t, it was too much. He was just... so tired.  "I’m not gonna let you do this!" he finally managed to yell._

_Lance's expression was filled with worry, fear, an underlying shade of doubt, and so, so much determination.  Keith knew that his partner wouldn't leave him, not after everything they'd been through. "You... Aaron, please, I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me!"  He felt tears of pain well in his eyes. Keith's heart_ hurt, _hurt for what could have been, what he couldn't achieve.  "Just... go!"_

 _The brunet shook his head, and he slid down the wall until he was just mere feet from Keith, close enough to touch.  The blue of his eyes was so bright, the sunset on the other side of the broken building glinting off of them._  Please, god, let him not be stubborn about this!

_As the building lurched once and finally settled, Keith's fingers slipped for the last time. With eyes that stared back into Lance's with an undying resolution, defying the end he was allowing to become his own, Keith fell backwards towards the broken window pane. Heart lurching, like it wasn't just Keith falling but Lance's innards plummeting with him, the brunet let out one last wild yell and lunged forward, all thoughts for his own safety forgotten. All that mattered was Keith, all he could think about was saving this man he'd gone through hell with._

_Just as Keith's hand slipped past the building's limits, Lance's fingers tightened around one pale wrist. Body screaming under the sudden strain of holding up himself and Keith, Lance struggled to pull the noirette up only to let out a yell of pain. It was no use, he couldn't get enough leverage to pull Keith to safety. All he could do was dangle the man over what was sure to be a deadly drop and pray his hand didn't slip._

_"I'm_ not _leaving you," Lance panted, his eyes starting to well with unshed tears. Why hadn't he ever thought about how much Keith meant to him until this moment, why did he have to wait until the very end to understand just how big of an impact the devilish noirette had had on his life. They'd once been nothing but rogues, with no one to answer to and nothing to fear. Now, when Lance most needed to be strong, to see a hopeless situation for what it was, he found he cared too damn much._

_"Tanner, you're not dying unless I damn well say you can, you hear me!" Lance snapped, his high emotions getting the better of him. "You are going to be fine!"_

_Lance's grip hurt, his fingernails pressed into the flesh of Keith's wrist.  The noirette held onto Lance's wrist as well, his feet dangling in the open air.  Glass shattered beneath them, and Keith could feel his heart breaking just like those spears of translucent material.  "You can't dictate who lives and dies!" Keith roared, his free hand aching to reach forward for Lance, but his heart knowing it would just cause both of their deaths._

_From below the both of them, a wind picked up and raven locks fluttered in the breeze, stinging at his eyes.  He tried for a smile, but it wasn't enough. He didn't have enough faith, enough hope, to show Lance just how much Keith really cared.  "You_ have _to live, Aaron!"_

 _The brunet opened his mouth to counter, but Keith wouldn't let him.  He couldn't stand for Lance to disagree with him. "No!" His voice cracked, his fear tainting what he wished would have been a confident statement.  "Aaron, you can't save me! Marina needs you! She's waiting for you!"_  I need you, but I can't have you...   _"She's too important to this mission for you to waste your life on me!  Go, Aaron, please!"_

 _"I can't_ leave you." _Lance's control over his own vocal chords shattered as he felt the tears prick at his eyes, slowly slipping down over his cheeks. Allura was waiting for him, if he didn't save her, they'd never be able to stop this disaster from happening, but Keith's hand was slipping, and it felt like Lance's own will to go on was slipping with him. "You don't get it Tanner, you aren't just my friend, you're- You're the other piece of me. You're everything, we're partners in this and guess what, that means I can't just-"_

_Another desk crashed by them and Lance had to swing Keith alarmingly to avoid the careening amalgamation of bullet riddled sheet metal and particleboard. All this did was weaken the grip he had on Keith's arm, and Lance knew he wouldn’t have long if he didn't think of something quick. This would be the end of Keith, he'd have to watch his friend die, despite his best efforts to save him._

_Letting out a broken string of curses, Lance pushed out, "Why the hell does it have to be you or her, Tanner? Why can't I save both of you, huh?" The question was so desperate, but so was the brunet, and he couldn't stop himself._ You know why it can't be both, _his brain reminded him, as the maw of death gaped open beneath him._ It's because you can escape on your own, but you can't get Keith to safety as well. Not with the state this building is in.

 _But that meant intentionally letting go, and Lance_ couldn't.

_Keith shook his head.  No. NO! He wouldn't let Lance do this.  He couldn't. If Lance wouldn't let go on his own, Keith would do it for him.  "It doesn't work that way, Aaron! You know it!" His eyes burned with the dust and debris, the tears raining down his cheeks sending tracks through the layer of dirt and grime that had accumulated today.  Keith loosened his grip, his fingers snagging in the loose fabric of Lance's ripped sleeve. The brunet's hand slipped, until their palms were clasped together._

_Keith could feel the warmth of their connection.  It had always been there, but it had only become this strong recently.  Keith didn't want to let go; he hated the thought of dying and leaving Lance alone, the thought of not being able to finish the mission they had set out on together.  They'd made it this far. They could make it one more day…_

_But that was a pipe dream.  They both knew that it wouldn't have lasted, not when they had the Monarchy on their tail.  It had only been a matter of time._

_"Let go, Aaron!  Go to Marina!" Keith shook his head again, smiling sadly up at his partner, his friend, this person that would never be his.  "You can't save us both! She's more important, and you know it!"_

_Lance could feel Keith's heart die with those words, watch as the man broke down completely. Gave up. As the whole world stood still, allowing them just this moment, one last second they could spend together, Lance watched as one of his own tears smacked against Keith's plaster covered forehead. "Marina isn't-" The brunet choked and he stopped speaking. She was important, in more ways than one. Hell, Lance was pretty sure he was in love with Allura, but she wasn't Keith._

_And no matter what her importance, she'd always be a piss-poor replacement for him._

_"Marina isn't_ you, _Tanner," Lance murmured, his eyes fluttering closed as the strain on his body caused a wave of agony to crash over him. The wind that kept whipping past them both stole the words away however, and the brunet knew that he had to make a decision. This couldn't last forever._

_Eyes fluttering open so he could stare upward, as if that could hold back the unrelenting sorrow crashing through him, Lance saw something that made his brain grind to a halt. With Keith's life on the line, he'd been distracted, but when he looked over the wreckage, Lance realized that all the desks, chairs, and shelves had created an escape route. A way out of this death trap._

_It wasn't guaranteed, but it was the best they were going to get._

_Filled with a swell of determination, one that pushed the hopelessness from his mind, Lance felt a signature smirk spread over his lips, Through the tears still shining on his face, the brunet let out a laugh. When Keith stared at him in confusion, Lance announced, "You think I can't save you both, but are you willing to bet on that?”_

 

"Cut!"

There was a ringing sound, a smack of what sounded like paper against a palm, and the light that had been previously dimmed flashing brighter.  They stung Keith’s eyes a little. _You've got to be fucking kidding me,_ Keith's mind groaned as Lance let go of him, sending him the couple of feet down to smack ass first into the foam at the floor beneath them.

Letting out a frustrated, tired groan, Keith thumped his head back against the green surface.  There were bits of fake debris around, a few prop bullet casings under his limbs, but Keith's mind was elsewhere. _Goddammit, I'm so hungry.  How long have we been at this?  I wonder what lunch was supposed to be.  How many times have we redone this scene?_

"Lance, c'mon!  You're not supposed to be flat out crying!"

Shiro's voice cut through Keith's hunger filled haze of scattered thoughts and fragmented statements.  He didn't even feel like looking over at their director, already knowing that the man would have stress lines creasing his brow.

"And Keith!" Coran was next of course, his acting coach never far behind Shiro, his accented voice slipping amidst the noirette's thoughts to mix into some weird form of self narration that was borderline comical.  "You must do it with more _feeling!"_  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Coran roughly pump his fist up and into the air with enough force to drive his point across.

"I _was_ ," Keith grumbled, bringing his hands up to rub at his eyes.  They actually did have dirt in them, probably from Lance's shoes or the myriad of props that had been brought in from outside, so that they looked more weathered.  So, at least those tears had been real.

"NO!  That was lack _luster_ at best!"  Coran repeated the movement of his fist, twitching his ginger mustache excitedly.  "With more **_feeling!_ **"

From his place at the head of the camera crew, Matt slipped over to Coran and Shiro. "Coran," he began, his eyebrows raised. "It looks like you're fisting someone."  From where they were working, Pidge, another tech director and Matt's sibling, rolled their eyes expressively, scoffing at their brother's comment. Shiro, on the other hand, choked and turned beetroot red, his eyes wide and full of suppressed laughter.

Grinning from ear to ear, Matt leaned closer to Shiro and muttered, "You liked that one, didn't you."

"If I recall correctly, you were the one who was enjoying it last night," Shiro murmured back. With a shout, Pidge slapped their hands over their ears and toppled backwards over an unused prop.

"To answer your comment Matt," Coran said, not missing a beat. "Sometimes you just need to take that advice and really _shove it up in there._ "

Ignoring his director and the other various stage crew members, Lance released a sigh and let go of the foam pillar, sliding only a couple of inches as the stage tech crew returned the alarming tilt of the fake building floor to a more level angle. As it was lowered back to the ground with a hydraulic hiss, the brunet dragged a hand up to his face to blot away some of the tears marring his cheeks.

"C'mon guys, do we really have to run this again?" The young actor didn't like complaining, but they'd run this individual scene at _least_ eight times today, and that wasn't even counting all the times they'd run it the day before. "It's three in the afternoon; haven't we managed at least _one_ take that's good enough for you guys?"

"Well, maybe if you'd stop bawling like a baby and Keith would stop acting like he's friggin made of stone, we'd be able to get somewhere," Matt called back, a lilt of laughter still in his voice from his sibling's outburst.

From where he lay, still seemingly glued to the foam beneath him, Keith sighed.  "Not my fault I'm starving." Lance looked down at him from his perch on the raised stage, an eyebrow quirked as he continued to wipe away an alarming amount of real tears.  "We've been at this since 8 in the morning, we skipped breakfast, _and_ lunch; do you know what that does to a person?"

"Oh, posh!"  Keith rolled his eyes at Coran's way of speaking, something he would really never get used to, even in the five years that he'd worked with the man.  "As an ac _tor_ , you must be able to push aside your own feelings for the greater good!"  The ginger man made a big show of rotating with a flourish, before bowing with far too much flexibility.  "You must _sell it_ , and being hungry is no excuse for poor acting!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure."  The noirette knew, realistically, that Coran was right, and that he was making a fair bit of sense, a very valid point, but still.   _I need food._  Pushing himself from the foam, stumbling at the unbalanced surface, he straightened his costume and made his way over to the break table, where there should have been snacks, but so far, none had appeared.  "Imma make some cup noodles."

"Look, I'm doing my best here," Lance griped, planting his hands on his hips and thrusting his nose into the air. "This idiot over here," he gestured in the vague direction of Keith, who'd wandered off in search of _something_. "Is impossible to work with! How am I supposed to act off of his cues if he gives me none!! Every line is just-" Lance dragged a hand through his perfectly sculpted hair so he could pull it out over his forehead in an imitation of Keith's mullet. _"N o A a r o n, y o u m u s t s a v e y o u r s e l f._ How does he even managed to _sound_ that unenthusiastic?!"

"Lance-" Shiro began, massaging his temple with a hand. "Can we please focus on _your_ mistakes right now, lets not pick apart Keith. There will be plenty of time to work with-"

"No! C'mon, Shiro, you told me to deliver those lines with feeling and _I did,"_ Lance protested. "Keith has no-”

"Both of you two are competent actors that were given the parts you were given for good reason," Shiro stated, talking over Lance and quelling some of his irrational irritation. "I thought that you two would be able to get along, but it's like the two of you have the antithesis of chemistry on screen."

"Well maybe," Lance began. "You shouldn't have cast one of us."

Shiro's expression remained thoroughly unimpressed. "And _maybe_ you two could work harder at getting along off camera so your interactions felt more natural when on screen."

Lance threw his arms up in the air, exasperated. Jumping off the set, the brunet complained, "As if? Look at Keith, he's such a fricken _killjoy_ at all the parties we attend together!"

"You two don't _go_ to parties together," Pidge pointed out, lifting a finger.

"You know what I mean!" Lance exclaimed, waving his hands. "He's such a killjoy when we go out to eat-"

"You don't do that either, Lance," Shiro reminded him, furrowing his brows. "Which is part of the problem."

"Yeah, but _at lunch!"_ the brunet insisted, rolling his eyes. "He's a complete killjoy." Glancing over at Keith, who had somehow dug up a cup of instant noodles and was now shoveling them into his mouth, Lance said, "See? Kill-" He gestured at Keith's mildly confused face before pointing his hand at the rest of him. "Joy!"

Having finally gotten some food into his stomach, Keith was able to blink slightly less glazed over cesious eyes at Lance, who seemed to be ranting enthusiastically about _something._  In all honesty, and Keith was _always_ honest when it came to his irritation with the brunet, the noirette tended to start to zone out once Lance started talking.  It wasn't that he was _trying_ to, it's just that the man had no sense of when a story was boring or not, and just...kept... _talking_.

So, as Lance powerfully thrusted a hand towards Keith's lower half, the noirette raised an eyebrow and said, around a mouthful of noodles, "Why are you pointing at my crotch?  Can I help you with something?"

Pidge, who had seemed to calm down slightly from Matt and Shiro's exchange earlier, choked on the water they were currently taking a sip of, liquid rocketing from their nose as they fell to the floor in a fit of guffaws.  Lance, who retracted his hand, sputtered as if he had no idea what to say in response.

Swallowing the mouthful, the noirette chugged the last bit of broth that was in the bottom of the Styrofoam cup.  He wiped his mouth off on his sleeve, and Keith turned back to Lance and said, "No, really, what was that about? I'm sorry, I don't pay attention when you talk."

From the floor, Pidge slammed a fist into the concrete, and Shiro only rubbed the bridge of his nose.   _What the hell is wrong with these people._

"I was _not_ pointing _at_ your crotch," Lance instantly protested. Rounding on Keith, the brunet insisted, "I was pointing in your general direction and that just happened to be-" Keith raised an eyebrow and Lance changed tactics. "AND WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T LISTEN TO ME! I LISTEN TO YOU!!"

Frustrated, the man crossed his arms and pulled a slight pout. Shiro’s sighing drew his attention however and he turned back to face the director. "I can't work with him, Shiro," Lance said weakly, waving at Keith vaguely. "He's... Keith."

Tossing the empty cup into the nearby trash, Keith smirked and muttered, "Great observation there, genius."  He was already feeling better, to the point that he could probably do the scene another couple of times and be totally fine.  Ah, the wonders that food did. "Are we gonna keep doin' this or are we done for the day?" he asked Shiro, completely ignoring the brunet in favor of questioning their director, who seemed about ready to throw in the towel on the whole project.  Not that he would; no, everyone there knew that this was supposed to be this studio's big break, and they'd never give up on it.

Letting out a pitiful whimper, Lance muttered, "At least Allura is actually willing to talk to me."  When Keith continued to ignore him, the brunet sighed. Honestly, he didn't _hate_ Keith, despite usually being in direct competition with him for rolls in movies. He should have been using this opportunity to get to know the man, it was such a perfect chance to do so. Getting up close and personal with someone as busy as Keith Kogane when you had a schedule like Lance usually did wasn't easy.

And yet now that he had the chance, the two of them couldn't be in the same room without either bickering or blatantly ignoring each other.

Slouching in his chair, pulling a tired face, Shiro glanced over at Keith. "Yeah, I want you two to run it again. I know that Lance isn't doing perfectly-"

"HEY!" the brunet protested loudly.

"-But," Shiro continued, pointedly ignoring Lance. "I really need you to focus on this. You were doing slightly better yesterday, but it's still been pretty flat. You're about to die, everything is riding on this moment, and you're delivering the lines like it's a chore." Rubbing his face, Shiro muttered, "The next month is pretty much just going to be the two of you running scenes, I need you to tap into your character's motivations, otherwise, it's not gonna work."

"Kinda hard when you're _literally_ depriving me of food, Shiro," Keith grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.  "You seem to forget that this isn't the only thing I have to do. Not only do I have to run these lines and this scene every single day, I've also got training, and interviews, and dealing with my own personal shit.  Some people need to eat!"

Keith knew he was taking the whole being-hella-hungry- thing a bit far, but what else did Shiro expect him to do?  Glancing over at the brunet, who was mumbling to himself, probably ranting some more, the actor said, "Not everyone has as much free time as _certain_ people, who seem to be free enough to flirt with every female in the immediate distance."  He pulled up the volume of his words at the end, _intent_ on making sure that Lance could hear him.

That...was a bit mean, but really, Lance had probably hit on _every... single... girl_ on the set at least once, and he seemed to have time to strut around town, taking pictures with fans, updating all of his social media.  Meanwhile, Keith was busting his ass trying to get deals, finish interviews, practicing his lines every waking moment, and keeping his body in shape so he could do these kinds of scenes, where he was hanging from ledges and shit.  

It wasn't that he _disliked_ Lance, quite the contrary.  The guy was a _fantastic_ actor, able to meld with whatever role he was playing, but did he have to be so flippant about everything?  Keith would just never understand.

He just wasn't that kind of person.

Shiro didn't answer for a moment, probably mulling over what Keith had said.  The noirette carded a hand through his hair, and he could practically hear their hairdresser, Romelle, hissing somewhere.  She'd spent an hour on his hair that morning, and had spent at least ten minutes between takes fixing it. "Just...fine. I'll try harder, just.  Let me eat for god's sake.”

"Careful Keith," Lance called snidely, even though he couldn't take his eyes off the way the man ran his fingers through his hair. "Wouldn't wanna ruin your girlish figure." That was mean, but _fucking come on_ , he _didn't_ flirt with everyone, he just appreciated the girls he was working with, and found them attractive, and maybeeee... Okay, fine, he had a point, but Lance wasn't going to give in on this one.

Keith turned slowly towards the brunet, who seemed rather proud of himself.  "Pardon?"

"You heard me," Lance responded, planting a hand on his hip. "Gotta be careful about those cups of ramen noodles, they go _right_ to your hips."

_And what a pair of hips they are..._

It... had been a long day.

Ok.  He had a _point_ , and it wasn't like Keith made a _habit_ of eating junk.  He was rather conscientious about his diet, his calorie intake, all of it.  But _still_.

Stepping forward, Keith pointed a finger in Lance's direction, eyes narrowing in a glare.  "Ok, listen _here_ you little shit..."

"Oh, boy, here it comes," Matt whispered behind a hand, leaning towards his husband, Shiro's face already falling at the incoming snark fest.

"I am _ready_ for this," Pidge giggled, rising on their toes to peer over a cart of wires and things.

"If my hips are so _fascinating_ , why don't you actually _catch_ me next time instead of letting me drop because you might _break a nail_."

"You shut your whore mouth!" Lance shot back, getting up in Keith's face. "I am not about to break a nail just to save your sorry ass!" Giving the man a derisive once over, Lance muttered, "Y'know, if you actually _had_ an ass to save."

"IT WAS PART OF THE SCENE YOU DIPSHIT!" Keith shot back, grabbing onto the front of Lance's shirt.  "And I will have you _know_ , I think my ass is _perfect_ , and apparently, you can't stop fucking staring at it, so what does that make you?"

Catching the front of Keith's artfully dirtied vest, Lance announced, "A proud bisexual and _FUCK YOU_ _!"_

"YOU CAN'T SEEM TO STOP STARING AT ME, SO WHY DONCHA!?" Their foreheads were practically pressed together at this point, and Keith could vaguely hear Pidge choking in the background.

 _If you keep talking to me like that, I just might._ Wait, no, scratch that last thought, Lance had absolutely _no_ interest in his costar. "Well maybe if you weren't such an asshat, I wouldn't find myself staring so much!" Lance fired back, feeling Keith's hair tickling his face. "But you seem to have issues with being a massive dick, so I guess I'm gonna have to keep staring."

"And you seem to have issues getting _off_ of my dick, so instead of staring, why don't you _fucking_ DO SOMETHING, MOTHERFUCKER!"

" _O **K**_ ** _AY THAT'S ENOUGH!!_** ** _"_**  Shiro's voice boomed through the studio, and both of them jumped.  Keith blinked rapidly, but his hand seemed to refuse to let go of Lance's shirt.  Maybe it had to do with the fact that he was still feeling anger seethe through his veins, or maybe it was because Lance hadn't let go of him yet either.

But more likely, it had to do with the fact that Lance smelled surprisingly good and Keith didn't really feel like stepping out of the bubble.

Lance _desperately_ wanted to retort, he wanted to fire back any number of insults, but they died on his lips when Shiro yelled at them. Freezing, the brunet pulled back slowly so he could face the director, unwilling to just _let go of Keith._ Speaking of Keith... his attention on Shiro began to wander back to Keith as he looked at the man. His slightly smudged makeup and the way he ran his tongue over his lips, waiting for Shiro to speak…

 _BEGONE GAY THOUGHTS!_ Lance told himself, wrenching his eyes away from Keith. Just to solidify this in his mind, the brunet pushed Keith away, finally releasing his vest and watching as the noirette dragged a hand through his hair, clearly still as irritated as Lance.

"Alright, you two," Shiro began, running a hand through his own hair. "This ends now. I get it, you two are unable to be in the same room without getting into a shouting match, but I'm not putting up with it on set any longer. Hell, I'm not letting it happen anywhere." When Lance let out a startled sound and Keith crossed his arms, the director nodded, his face set. "You heard me right, you two are costars and I need good chemistry between you. Which means no more infighting. I want you two to spend time together until you _work out your shit_ because this-" he gestured between the two of them. "This can't continue."

"That's not entirely fa--"

"I don't care if it's fair or _not!_ " Shiro broke in, cutting Keith off.  Pinching the bridge of his nose, the scarred director murmured, _"L_ _ook!_  This movie is our last chance.  We _cannot_ let it flop.  And if the both of you don't start shaping the hell up, I'll have to go to more drastic measures."

Keith huffed.  Realistically, he knew that Shiro was right.  They needed this film to be a success. He sort of wanted to ask what sort of "drastic measures" Shiro had in mind, but knowing the man, he'd probably make them room together or something. _Yeaaaaah, how about we don't?_  Working with Lance was bad enough.  The noirette would probably lose it if he had to live with the man.  "Fine." _Anything to get out of living with Lance._  Not that that was actually gonna happen, but now that it was in his head, Keith couldn't stop thinking about it.  "How do you propose we fix this issue then, wise leader?"

Shiro opened his mouth only for Coran to break his silence to cut across him. "I think that if the two of you want to start getting along, you're going to need to spend _quality_ time together."

 _Oh, like that can't be taken the wrong way,_ Lance thought, coloring slightly as his mind wandered.

"Yeah," Shiro agreed, a bit miffed at having his monologue cut off. "Maybe go out to eat together? Spend some time running your lines in private?" Shaking his head, the man said, "I've dealt with some rocky relationships between actors before, you two aren't the first and hopefully, this studio will be around long enough for you to not be the last. I know you two can overcome this, you just have to work at it."

"Work at it?" Keith repeated.  "With him? Mr. Drama Queen?" He jerked a thumb in Lance's direction, raising an eyebrow in incredulity.  "Okay, I know that you're making a point here, Shiro, but how to do you expect us to do that when our schedules don't ever line up _anyway?"_

If Keith remembered correctly, after they finished shooting for the day, he had an interview with Publix Magazine about his upcoming guest star role in the remake of some 80's cartoon-turned-live-action-show.  And then tomorrow he had an all day training session to get ready for the next few scenes they had to film for this movie. And _then the next day_ he had four different appearances with local media and talk shows, including Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, all the while going back and forth for filming.

There was no way they would time for all of that, along with shooting, _and_ for some "quality bonding time".  They didn't _need_ a bonding moment.  They needed a break from all of this shit.

Without really thinking through what he was saying, Lance offered, "I can work with Keith's schedule." Slipping his hands into his pockets, the brunet puffed out his cheeks and said, "Any press for this movie, we might as well do it together, and as for whatever else he has going on, I can work with it." The moment the words were out of his mouth, Lance cursed internally. He didn't want to tie himself to Keith, but at the same time, he knew why Shiro was frustrated, and he didn't blame him.

Before Keith could turn on him and accuse him of being _obsessed_ or some other bullshit, Lance turned towards him and said, "Look, I don't wanna spend time with you either, asshole, but we might as well figure out our shit now. Otherwise, we never will."

 _Free time is so hard for me to get...what makes anyone think I want to waste it spending time with Lance...?_  OK, really, it wouldn't be _that_ bad.  Before this movie, before they'd become costars, they had actually gotten along okay in the times they'd passed each other or had to appear in the same shows.   _But do I really wanna let myself get dragged into something like that again?_  He didn't want a repeat of before, of the last time he got too close to a costar.  That had ended painfully for everyone involved.

But could he really risk not doing it, and potentially ruining the film for everyone?

No, he couldn't.  They were relying on Lance and Keith to be able to get through this and be able to make this movie a success.

"Yeah, sure.  We can try this."  Turning to Lance, Keith let out a heavy sigh.  "Why don't we try and like...I dunno grab coffee or something later?  I should have some time after the interview with Publix, but it might be kinda late."

"Yeah, sorry, coffee that late is not good for my sleep schedule," Lance admitted, crossing his arms. "How about a bar. I'll pay?"

"Oh my god," Pidge hissed to Matt from around Shiro. "They're actually _getting along_ _."_

"I bet you ten it doesn't last," Matt stage-whispered back.

"Make that twenty and you've got a bet," Pidge returned. "I bet by the end of the week, they'll be fu-"

"YES THAT SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD IDEA!" Shiro encouraged loudly, clapping his hands together. "I can't wait to hear about how _friendly_ you two are becoming."

Yeah, he'd heard what Pidge had been about to say. _Yeah, I don't think so..._ Shiro's clap resounded through the almost silent studio.  "That could work."

"Then it's settled!"  Shiro stepped forward quickly, clapping a hand on both of their shoulders.  "Now, let's get back into it! From the top!"

Keith sighed.  Yep, this was gonna be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[End Scene]_


	2. Make It Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, 100 viewssssss?? I guess you guys are enjoying it!! That makes both of us pretty happy, because trust us, we've been enjoying this story too. 
> 
> Heck, we're already working on chapter five XD
> 
> Well, I hope this chapter is as enjoyable as the last~
> 
> Enjoy!

_"-And please give a warm welcome to our very special guest!"_

As Lance's TV droned on in the background, the young actor delicately picked at his hair with a comb, pulling it out of his eyes before gently smoothing it back with some hair gel. Examining his face in the mirror, Lance puffed out his cheeks and stared accusingly at the bruise had _lovingly_ chosen to flower on his face.

In their last run of the fall sequence, Keith had knocked a piece of desk into the brunet’s face and it had left him with a _beautiful_ mark on his cheekbone. He hadn't been able to see it when he'd been caked in makeup, but now that he'd washed it off, it was unfortunately obvious. _I can't believe I have to be nice to him,_ Lance thought mutinously, dragging his thumb over the bruise and letting out a soft moan. It was dumb, he knew that the makeup artists would be able to cover it up without trouble, but there would be pictures taken when he was in public, and he'd have to explain what had happened, and _god_ it was such a bother.

Speaking of Keith, Lance was currently getting ready for their date. Wait, no, their _bar_ date. _Shit, no, not date, why am I using that word._ Uh... Meet up? Friendly bar meetup? _Friendly aquanitence bar meetup without any other implications._

That sounded unbelievably stupid, but at that moment, Lance felt pretty stupid. He'd spent an hour already just dressing up for said excursion, which was dumb because he didn't even care, but goddamnit, Lance was _not_ going out in public looking like a mess. _Yeah, but Keith's still gonna make fun of you for it..._ he thought, somewhat childishly.

From Lance’s couch, Red, his kitten, let out a meow. "I know girl, he's an ass, but what can you do?" The kitten meowed again and finally Lance turned to look at what she was fixated on. Narrowing his eyes at the TV screen, the brunet muttered, "Oh, of course." before grabbing for the remote to turn it up.

Because there on the screen was the infuriating noirette that was causing him so much grief.

-

Keith shifted uncomfortably in the plush leather chair he had been ushered into.  The lights overhead were beating onto his face, their heat making his scalp sweat slightly. Because of this, he was glad for the beanie that Coran had shoved on his head before he got up on stage.

"Welcome, Keith!"  There was a brightly clothed interviewer in front of him, her long, spray-tanned legs crossed delicately as she held tightly to a small notebook.  She worked for a medium local news channel, and had practically begged him for this interview. "How was filming today?"

Clearing his throat, Keith tried to not focus on the several hundred people in the audience.  It wasn't that he got stage fright, it was just that acting on set in front of cameras was very different from being himself in front of a live audience.  "Thank you," the noirette managed to push out, picking lightly at the fabric of his neatly pressed dress slacks. "It could have gone better, we had a few hiccups here and there, but I think we got the scene down pretty good."

"That's good to hear, isn't it, everyone?"  As soon as the interviewer spoke, the audience kicked up with a round of applause and whistles.

 _God let this be over soon...I wanna have some brain cells left when I have to go meet up with Lance._  Oh… right.  He'd almost forgotten about their… date.  Did he really want to go? No. Not exactly.

"This movie is supposed to be a renaissance for your director, Takashi Shirogane, right?" the lady asked, pressing a stray strand of platinum blonde hair back into place.  "But it’s also a new beginning for you, isn’t it? After the drama of the last feature film you starred in, you need one. Two years is a long time, but something like that sticks with you doesn't it?"

 _Oh god please no._  Keith _did not_ want to talk about that right now.  On national television. Not at all. Nope.  Not when thousands of people were watching. Not when no one was watching, but… he’d expected this to come up.

-

Lance leaned over the back of his couch, his eyebrows raised. "Drama? Oh-ho! Keith what are you not telling us?" His hair was almost entirely forgotten as he watched the noirette start to bite his lip before he cleared his throat and settled back down. _Keeping your calm? Impressive._

_-_

_FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK_.  Ok, Ok, Keith could do this.  It wasn't so bad. He could just...ignore that second question, right?  "Shiro has poured all of his money and time into this movie, and I'm willing to do what I can to help him out.  He's done a lot for me, in the movie business and outside of it."

There was a chorus of disappointed "awwwwws" from the audience, and Keith felt himself tense up.

"That's so sweet!" the interviewer cried, holding a hand to her ample bosom, which was almost spilling out of her shirt.   _Well, Lance would get a kick outta that..._  "But what about the other question?  We are all dying to know your thoughts about the events of two years ago!  Right?" She turned to the audience, and they cheered and clapped. Keith felt his throat close up.

"It was a long time ago, and I'm not sure that it’s important anymore."

"Oh, come ooooon!"  The blonde leaned forward and patted Keith's knee before she squeezed it tightly, her nails digging into his skin through his slacks.  Shifting again, Keith tugged at the sleeves of his ash gray sports jacket. "Tell us, Keith!"

-

Despite not getting along with Keith particularly well, Lance felt for the guy. Everyone here had secrets they didn't want brought up, and as he'd always been told by his mentor, Hollywood's job was to uncover those secrets and drag them into the open as often as possible. Lance had a few of his own, so he knew what it was like to be under those bright lights getting asked the most uncomfortable questions possible over and over again.

"C'mon, Keith, deflect and avoid," Lance muttered under his breath, giving up on his makeup so he could curl up on his couch and stare transfixedly at the screen. "Give a little laugh, brush your hand over her arm, lean back and look relaxed, it's not hard. Say something about how it made you a better person in the end, don't make me lecture you during our date because you fucked it up."

From his shoulder where she'd perched, Red let out a soft _mrrit_ of agreement.

-

 _Ok, just...Coran has talked with me about this before, it's not so bad.  Just keep your head and you’ll be fine._  Blowing out a breath, Keith smirked up at the interviewer as he leaned back comfortably, crossing a leg over the other and hooking his ankle on his knee.  "Oh, I'm sure no one wants to hear about the mistakes of lil ol' me." There was a sound of protest from the audience, and Keith chuckled.

The interviewer giggled, her cheeks dusting a light pink.  "Keith, you _tease_ ," she said, playfully batting at his knee.  "C'mon, just give us a little bit, pleeeease?"  She peered out from under soft eyelashes, and Keith felt his insides curl.  God, he hated when women did that to him. He hated that they thought they held sway over him with so little effort. It was... insulting.

"It was just a dumb kid doin' some dumb things," the noirette finally answered, winking sneakily.  "It was hard to move past, but it gave me some skills for later on in life, ya know? Especially now that I'm sure more drama is about to surface because of this movie."

There was an "ooooooh" from the audience, and Keith mentally kicked himself.   _Fuck, I should not have said that._

"Oh?   _Drama_ ?"  The blonde leaned forward again, her green eyes twinkling conspiratorially.  "Does this have anything to do with you _costar_ Mr. Lance McClain??"

_Fuck..._

-

"Fuck, you should not have said that," muttered Lance, running a hand through his hair, messing up his artfully done combing job. "For fuck’s sake, Keith, don't bring up us fighting; we'll have tabloids swarming us until kingdom come."

-

Despite Keith's brain being a steady buzzing of curses at letting his mouth run without checking it first, he managed to push out, "With any movie there's going to be _some_ drama."  The interviewer nodded, but it didn't seem like that was going to be enough for her.

"It's being said that the character you play, Tanner Creed, might be gay; is there any truth to that?"

_i'M SORRY WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT THIS?_

Keith blinked.  "Uhm." Someone cleared their throat behind him, and Keith turned to see Coran making vigorous _keep going_ motions.  But the noirette wanted _no part_ of this.  "I can't confirm that, but people are going to believe what they want to believe."

"Yes, I suppose that's true," the blonde answered, pursing her lips and nodding slowly.  She put a hand to the side of her mouth and stage whispered, "Just between you and me, I think that Tanner and Aaron would make a fantastic couple."  There was a round of applause, and Keith tried to brush off the uncomfortable feeling that was curling in his gut. "But I heard that they wanted to choose actors that mirrored the characters well; could that be why they chose you as Tanner?"

"Pardon?"

"Well, I heard that most of your partners have been male.  Is that just a rumor, or is there any truth to it?"

-

"WAIT WHAT!?" Lance almost tumbled off his couch in his surprise. "HE'S GAY?? WHY DOES NO ONE TELL ME THESE THINGS?!" Staring at Red, who'd hopped off of him and was now giving him an accusing look, Lance mumbled, "What- n-No! That's not a bad thing, it's just- I- Okay listen here cat, don't you give me that expression, I can and will lock you in the closet for a time out."

Meanwhile his mind was reeling. _Okay brain, we're not going to think too hard about this, because if we do, then we're going to be in trouble._ Not that he'd ever think about Keith in that way regardless. This didn’t change anything! But... he couldn't _help_ but think about it in other contexts. Their roles in the movie were closely intertwined, after all. And despite Allura's character,  Marina, being Aaron's love interest, there was a lot between Tanner and Aaron, a lot of moments that could be interpreted to be...

_Okay Lance, that's enough of that. You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm._

_-_

"I...don't see how that's...relevant?" This was going a bit far.  Okay, look. Keith knew Hollywood. He'd grown up with it, lived it, _breathed it_ his entire life.  He was used to getting his sexuality and his sexual and romantic encounters picked apart.  But that was before…

"Oh, I think it's very relevant, since it has been exclusively confirmed that your co-star is bisexual, and there are several very heavily _queer coded_ scenes in the movie you both star in, so really, we're all dying to know!" the woman chirped, her teeth flashing too brightly.

"Don't bring Lance into this.”

_Oh.  Shit._

Keith spoke without thinking.  He hadn't meant to say that! He was supposed to be keeping his composure, a calm, smooth exterior, NOT GETTING ANGRY OVER RUMORS THAT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM.  "Wh-what I mean is..." he stammered, instantly wishing he could curl up and disappear.

The noirette wasn't sure what to say to make them leave him alone.  "I'm sure Lance can answer for himself,” was what he finally settled with. “I'm not able to tell you who he's interested in.  All I can say is that yes, while certain scenes have them being rather close, it has not been confirmed, even by our writer or director, what their more intimate relationship is like.  So really, I don't have much to tell you.."

Glancing back at Coran, Keith shook his head.  After all of this, he was done. He didn't want to be here any more.

"Uhm, alright.  I'm sorry for prying!"  The blonde interviewer seemed to shake off Keith's attitude very well.  She perked back up, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and continued, "Well, is there anything you can tell us about the tv show you got cast in?"

 _Ok.  Yes. This..._  This was something Keith could work with.

"Well, you see..."

-

Falling back to the couch, Lance let out a heavy breath before turning off the TV. He really should have already left, but all he could do was drag a hand through his hair and mutter under his breath, "What the hell?" Interviewers could be vicious, and clearly that interview hadn't gone well. Keith had been all over the place, and what had he meant by _don't bring Lance into this_? What kind of statement had that been?

Unfortunately, he was most definitely a part of it because _he was the other half of this whole potential relationship._ The one between their characters, not between- _Gha, what the hell?_ Tanner and Aaron were supposed to be close, they were partners, but that was it! He’d read the script more times than he could count, Lance _knew_ his character and he knew that Aaron wasn’t about to leave Marina for Tanner.

They weren't a thing in the movie, people needed to stop reading into things so much.

Getting to his feet, Lance glanced at himself in one of his several mirrors he had scattered around his small apartment and let out an undignified grunt before straightening his collar. After watching that interview, he looked like a mess. His casual button-down was slightly wrinkled, and his jacket wasn't much better. Lance didn't even want to look at his hair, which was tousled if he was being charitable and a fucking disaster if he was honest. His makeup was alright, but hardly perfect.

Sadly, it would have to do. Keith was going to get out of that interview soon, and he was supposed to meet him there. So...  Shaking his head, Lance grabbed for his wallet and keys. He'd chew Keith out later for that dismal performance. For now, he had places to be.

Giving Red a small, hopeful smile, Lance waltzed out of the room, humming a tune as he went.

* * *

 

Keith slouched against the side of the studio where the interview had taken place, pulling the beanie off his head so he could scratch at his scalp.

"That was a fucking _disaster_ ," he all but groaned, leaning his head back against the brick wall.  He was supposed to be waiting for Lance, but he sort of just wanted to go home.  After that botched interview, there was no way the press was going to leave either of them alone.

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, Keith!" Coran insisted, stepping forward to fix the collar of Keith's turtleneck.  "I remember Shiro's first interview with Publix. Now _that_ was disastrous.  Your's was...well...palatable."

Looking up at his acting coach, the twitching of his curled mustache, Keith drew his brows together.  "It doesn’t matter if it was _better_ , I still fucked up, Coran."

"No, no!  You kept your cool where most would have _crumbled_ under the pressure.  You did _very well_."  The man put a hand on either side of Keith's face and squished it.  "Do not think light of your abilities! The ladies loved you!"

Rolling his eyes, the noirette brought his hands up to carefully extract himself from between Coran’s palms.  "You know that that doesn't make me feel any better, Coran."

"Yes, yes I am well aware of where your interest lie, Keith, but that is besides the point!" Coran exclaimed. “The point is, you did well, and you should stop worrying about it so much.”

As Lance pulled up to the back of the studio, he immediately spotted Keith, tiredly leaning against the building and batting Coran away with a hand as the man tried to squish his cheeks for some unfathomable reason. Turning into the lot, his red Tesla Roadster shining in the setting sun, Lance pulled on his best casual smirk before parking, giving his collar one last twitch, and stepping out of the car.

"Hello, Keith," Lance drawled, his eyes falling on the noirette like he couldn't help but stare at him. Sauntering over to him, enjoying the way Keith's attentions instantly fixed on him, the brunet twitched a grin onto his face and said, "Aren't you just a little ball of _complete disaster_ today?”

Pushing off from the wall, Keith stepped around Coran and shoved his hands into his slack’s pockets.  "Ain't that the fucking truth." There was no arguing it. The whole day had been one mess after another.  But hey, they were within touching distance and not ripping each other's throats out yet, so that was something.  "Thanks for giving me a ride here, Coran. I'll make Lance bring me home later."

The ginger man put a palm against his cheek and smirked at the two of them.  "Oh, I'm sure he will." There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, making his insinuations plain.

"No, Coran, you're misunderstanding, Keith," Lance instantly said, waving his hands. "Clearly I'm going to drink him under the table and then leave him at the bar. That's totally what Keith meant to say, didn't you, buddy?" He elbowed the noirette, smirking.

"You leave me at the bar and I'll sic my dog on you."

Keith was only half joking.

Leaving that statement to be taken as Lance wanted, he continued, "But who said you'd be able to outdrink me?"

"Uh, I did," Lance said, blase, looking between Coran and Keith innocently. "Just now."

"Look at the two of you _getting along_!"

"Shut it, Coran," Keith called back, stepping over to Lance. It was then that he noticed the small bruise under his right eye, the hair that seemed like it hadn't been brushed since he woke up, and the slightly bent corner of his collar.  "What the hell happened to you?"

Pulling a face as he remembered the interview he’d watched Keith struggle through, Lance jabbed a finger into the noirette’s chest. "You, you happened to me."

Well, he could have put it a _bit_ better but surely Keith knew him well enough to not take it _completely_ out of context, right?

"Oh?  Did I?" Keith jived back, pulling a hand out of his pocket to card fingers through his hair.  He hadn't put his beanie back on yet, and maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, if the way Lance was watching his hair was any indication. Tucking some stray strands behind his ear, the noirette continued, "And _what_ , pray tell, could I have done to you?"  He kept his voice low, hopefully so that Coran couldn't hear.

Unfortunately, the man was like a hawk.

"Lance!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “I had no idea you thought of Keith in _that_ light!  Keith, isn't that just wonderful!"

The shorter actor snorted.

"I- WHAT? NO!!" Lance jumped back and stared at Keith like he'd lost his mind. _Oh god, you and that fucking hair, who's idea was it to let mullets ever look cool on someone?_ "I was _not_ \- I have never-!" Narrowing his eyes, Lance snapped, "I was watching that interview you just had and you kind of _fucked it up_ , Keith. It's not my fault I was concerned for my fellow costar."

Pushing his nose into the air, satisfied that he’d deflected the accusation, Lance almost choked when Coran said, "Indeed, it's always better for a relationship to be built on mutual care and concern. I'm proud of the two of you for being so _mature._ "

Yep, Coran was _the best_.  Keith found himself doubling over with laughter.  He thumped his head against Lance's bicep and gripped onto the brunet's sleeve to keep from falling over as he cackled, Lance’s reaction only making the whole thing more funny.

"Holy shit!" he pushed out between laughs.  "That was great! Nice one, Coran!"

"It's my pleasure, Keith!" Coran announced, doing a little twirl. "Now, I wouldn't want to ruin your date, so I suppose it's time for me to head off~ Just call if you need anything." And then he was gone, leaving Lance with a snickering Keith in his arms and a date to go on.

"Oi, Keith, you can stop laughing now," Lance muttered. "I'm not interested in you, Coran and the rest of the media can get bent." Even as he spoke, he found himself smiling at the softened expression on Keith's face; the laughter lines that formed in his light makeup and the way his soft hair fell against Lance's chest. _I guess getting along with him might not be as hard as I thought it would be._

"Your _face,”_ Keith weezed, still giggling. “Your fucking face!"  His stomach was beginning to hurt, and all Keith could do was hold onto Lance for dear life.  The ground was horrendously disgusting and he didn't need his nice clothes getting all covered in grime if he was going to be wearing them for the evening.  "Je-jesus _fucking_ christ!  That was funny!"

Finally managing to get his breathing under control for a few seconds, Keith stepped away from Lance but continued to keep a grip on his jacket.  He gulped down several deep breaths before releasing the brunet with one hand to send it through his hair again.

"I'm sorry," the noirette giggled.  "Man, Coran is great."

"Yeah, he's pretty alright," Lance admitted, leading Keith to the passenger side of the car, chuckling a little as he did so. Not because he found Coran's jokes remotely funny, but because Keith looked kind of child-like when he was laughing, and it was a good change from the serious, irritable facade the noirette usually kept up.

"Careful, if you laugh much more, you're going to pass out before you've even had your first drink," Lance lilted, letting Keith climb into the car as his giggling finally died down. As he went to close the door however, there were several bright flashes and Lance jerked his head up, his eyes going wide.

Because right there were several journalists, all armed with cameras and microphones. "Well Keith, it looks like it's time to go!" Slamming the car door, Lance hopped over the hood of his car, a move he'd learned from many a dumb action movie, and quickly slid into the driver's seat, announcing as he did so, only half joking, "Now, this car does have Ludicrous mode, so uh... hold on. Hopefully we won't get caught by the police."

And then, because the line from their movie was in the forefront of his mind, "And if the police catch us, well, let's try not to have a repeat of St. Paul."

Almost instantly, because it was instinct at this point, Keith responded, with a shrug he had perfected after practicing this scene many a time, "Hey, St. Paul was all you, moron.  You were the one that told Antoine to choke on his cigar."

Chuckling, Lance put the car into drive before peeling out of the parking lot, only just stopping himself from flipping off the reporters behind them. "Let's hope we never have to run that scene again."

"How many times did Shiro have us do it?  Sixteen? It was like a two minute scene and it took us almost four days."  Keith shuddered a bit, remembering the annoyance that had creased Shiro's handsome face.  "I don't think I've ever seen him _that_ pissed."

"Actually, it was seventeen," Lance corrected, tapping his temple with a smirk. "There was that time I choked on the water and passed out for a couple of minutes."

Keith snorted and put a hand to his forehead, donning an accent so he could imitate Coran.  "Oh, _Lonce!_  Yes, that is _exactly_ the way choking is to be done!"

"Y'know, you could have actually _helped_ instead of poking me in the head with a plastic straw until I woke up." Lance muttered, even though he was still smiling.  As they melded with Hollywood traffic, the brunet cast a look over at Keith and found the man grinning, his body relaxed and his posture easy. It was the first time he'd seen Keith so comfortable, and it only caused his smile to widen.

"Hey, what else was I supposed to do?" Keith countered, although ineffectually.  "Grab a fork and poke you with that? Of course, I could have stabbed you with the fork. That would have woken you up quicker."

He glanced over at the brunet, at the way the lights of the other cars reflected off of mirth-widened cerulean eyes, and it sort of reminded him of the scene they'd done earlier, the sunset-like lighting giving the same effect.

"You should keep your eyes on the road, though," he informed Lance, crossing a leg over the other so he could prop his elbow on the open window.  "Unless you _want_ to keep staring at me?"

"No comment," Lance said, his cheeks dusting pink. _Are we... flirting? No, no this is just banter. Totally normal between coworkers._ Affixing his eyes on the road, Lance leaned back and said, "Y'know, if we can just get our acts together on set, no pun intended, then we'll probably be able to pull this stuff together a lot faster. I know I'm not the only one getting tired of running the same scenes over and over again."

Letting his own arm dangle slightly out of the open window, Lance admitted, "Not that I- uh... Not that I actually don't like this movie. I'm having fun? It's a lot more _alive_ than the past few movies I've acted in." _It helps that I'm finally working with you, after years of wishing I could._ Not that it was exactly going the way he'd hoped, but hey, maybe things would get better?

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Keith agreed, pressing his pointer finger against his temple.  "We've all put a lot into this movie. And I think that we have...a lot in common in Tanner and Aaron?  At least personality-wise, you know?" As he spoke, the noirette remembered when he had first auditioned for Tanner.  He hadn't actually wanted to take the part at first, only auditioning because Coran had said that it would be an amazing opportunity for him, since he'd be working with two other up-and-coming actors.

Keith really hadn't expected that he'd be here, sitting with Lance in his car, talking about the movie they were going to star in.  It was… a little comical…

"What made you want to audition for LionHeart, anyway?"  Now that Keith thought about it, he wasn't sure he ever asked.  Not that he had _wanted_ to before now, but with the change in atmosphere, he found himself curious.

What had changed between them anyway?  Maybe it was Shiro's speech earlier? Or the fact that he was trying hard to get along with Lance?  He didn't know, but… Keith wasn’t sure he wanted it to end.

Lance stared hard straight ahead, doing his damndest to not look at Keith or _give any indication_ that the man's question was making the brunet uncomfortable. _Alright, time to follow your own advice, Lance._ Leaning back in his seat, Lance elbowed Keith with a little laugh and said, "Oh, y'know, I just auditioned because it was a movie." _That was weak._

But how could he tell Keith that he'd auditioned _because_ of the noirette? Because he'd heard through the grapevine that they'd gotten Keith to play Tanner and hadn't yet found a decent candidate for Aaron. It had been the _perfect_ opportunity to meet Keith at last and he had just gotten _lucky_ . Naturally, his agent had flippantly said that _of course a failing production company would jump at having a fresh and young star like Lance in their movie_ , but at first, Lance had felt like it was he who had really scored.

As one could imagine, the past few months had somewhat tarnished that opinion, but now that he was sitting here with Keith, not fighting, just pleasantly bantering, Lance found that knot of excitement form in his stomach once more.

"Well, I can't argue with _that_ fact."

As they began to fall into what Keith hoped was a comfortable silence, the noirette tried to remember the first time they'd both gone in for script work.  He'd been _so excited_ to meet Lance, someone he'd admired since the beginning.  Of course, he'd thought the man was unbearably annoying as soon as he opened his mouth, but hey, that seemed to be changing, right?

Keith lost himself to his thoughts for a while, eyes glazing over as he flitted from one event to the other.  It wasn't until they stopped at another light that Keith was dragged from his thoughts.

"By the way, where are we going?"

Lance grinned. "We are going to a bar!"

"No fucking shit, Sherlock," Keith groaned, just barely resisting the urge to smack his palm against his face.

"It's called the Lost Property Bar," Lance muttered, rolling his eyes at Keith’s reaction. "And honestly, Keith, would I take you somewhere bad?"

"Yes."  There was no hesitation in his words.  "Remember Fritos? That awful taco place you brought us to?"

"HEY DON'T YOU INSULT FRITOS!" Lance burst, pointing a finger at Keith. Settling his hands back on the wheel, Lance muttered, "You do _not_ insult a guys tacos, Keith, that's like, rule number seventeen of the bro code. I can't believe you forgot it so easily."

"Okay, _actually_ , Article Number 17 states, _A Bro shall be kind and courteous to his co-workers, unless they are beneath him on the pyramid of Screaming_."  Keith paused, lowered the finger he had pointed up while he spoke and then looked down in confusion at his feet.  "Why do I know that?"

"Aaaand he knows the bro code," Lance rolled his eyes. "Alright, smartass, we get it." Turning left, making the turn a little too tight, Lance watched in satisfaction as Keith was forced to grab onto the window sill to stabilize himself. Pausing the man asked, "Actually, is that why Shiro gets to yell at us?"

"It might just be because he's our boss?"  Keith resettled himself in the seat and leaned his head back against the headrest.  "But _fine_ , I'll trust you on the bar.  How far is it? I'm tired of sitting in this car."

"I'll have you know that this puppy is the _best_ car money can buy," Lance defended, patting his steering wheel comfortingly, like the car could hear Keith. "And it's only a couple of minutes, if traffic stays light. Hopefully, the tabloids won't follow us there."

"I never said I didn't like _the car_ ," Keith replied, rolling cesious eyes.

"Oh," Lance began, before getting what Keith was saying. _"Oh._ Alright asshole, very funny. Why don't you go back to not listening to me talk, like you _usually do._ "

"What kind of spin did that idiot brain of yours put on my words?"  Turning slightly in the seat, the noirette raised an eyebrow and said, "I was _trying_ to say that I don't like sitting for long periods of time."

"I- oh..." Lance mumbled, looking away, feeling mildly awkward. "Erm. I guess... Look, you said you usually don't listen to me, so I just assumed..." Coloring slightly, the brunet mumbled, "Let's just get to the bar."

"I meant that I don't listen when your stories get to the point of boredom because they have nothing to do with anything," Keith mumbled, leaning back in the seat again. "And yes, please.  I could really use a drink.”

Lance wanted to snidely ask if that was because Keith was tired of him already, but he held his tongue. How things could go from light and fun to awkward in three seconds flat was beyond him, but he sort of knew it was his fault. Damnit, he just... couldn't help himself sometimes.

And those words earlier had hurt Lance, despite him acting otherwise at the time. He didn’t like to think that Keith could so easily brush him off when the brunet couldn’t do the same to him.

Oh well, they were driving up to the bar now, and he figured that for the sake of the rest of their evening, he should probably let it go.

As Lance tried to find a parking spot, Keith pretended to have not already seen the several members of paparazzi that were _pretending_ to hide behind bushes and trash cans.  It was kind of inevitable at this point, always having to be in the spotlight, especially when they were starring in an up and coming movie that was _supposed_ to be that year's biggest thing.

"Bet you ten bucks you pass out on the floor before I do," Keith challenged once the car pulled into a spot and they were standing on either side of the shiny vehicle.  A smirk was high on his face.

"You're on!" With a devilish grin playing at the corners of his mouth, Lance leaned over the roof of the car and drawled, "But you might wanna make it twenty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[End Scene]_


	3. An Armful of Keith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That's a lot of Keith.  
> Wow...  
>  _Keith..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You...you'll see... I swear.
> 
> Anyway, ENJOY CHAPTER THREE BECAUSE QUE LET ME POST IT FINALLY

From the dirty floor of the bar, as a bunch of people gathered around them, Keith reached up, the hand with which he did so still holding onto the half empty bottle of what he thought was coffee liqueur. To be honest, he couldn't even remember  _ when _ he'd gotten the bottle.  Not that he particularly cared.  No, he was far too into this little performance.

"Aaron!  No, Go back!" he called up from the floor, to where a just as drunk Lance was hanging off of the table.  The crowd around them was laughing, cheering, ready for more. Wiping at his eyes, Keith giggled to himself, but repeated, "Go back!" just because Lance hadn't answered him.

"TANNER!" Lance announced loudly, taking a moment to remember what should have been very familiar lines. For a moment, he forgot what he was supposed to say next, but then he caught onto the pure emotion in Keith's drunk rendition of his own lines, and he quickly recalled his own. "TANNER WHAT THE HELL!" Flopping over the table, almost spilling the remainder of his third martini, Lance tipsily announced, "I'm not  _ going anywhere. _ "

Reaching out towards Keith's hand, he insisted, in as heartfelt a voice as he could manage with  _ this much _ hard alcohol in his system, "What the  _ hell _ man, you can't just tell me to leave. I don't work like that~!"

His bottom lip wobbling, he added,  _ "We _ don't work like-" he burped. "Like that." At the goofy expression on Keith's face, a little too much emotion mixed with too much alcohol, Lance found himself breaking down into laughter.

"Seriously dude," he mumbled, breaking character for a moment. "I- Aaron would really be torn up if you were to die, why do you  _ think _ I keep crying so much?"

"I...I just thought...," Keith had to stop for a moment in his words, taking a quick chug of the liqueur and giggling once more.  "I thought you were just bein' a doof!"

Oh, lord, Keith shouldn't have drunk this much.  Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, and even the disgusting stickiness of the floor wasn't bothering him anymore.

"Okay!  OKay!! OKAY!!!"  Ah yes, Keith's weird obsession with saying things in threes when he was drunk.  The best part, if he was to say so himself! Not that he got drunk often. No, no, no.  But it seemed rather appropriate at this point. "Lemme...lemme just..." Shuffling against the floor, Keith scooted a little closer to where Lance was hanging off the table. 

Reaching up his hand again, confused as to why the bottle was  _ still _ there, he vaguely judged the distance between himself and the brunet.  Not very accurately, though.  _ Are you glued to me or somethin'?  _ he wondered, shaking his hand lightly. Unfortunately, the bottle still wouldn’t budge.  Not that he minded. Nah, it was his  _ friend _ .  "Bestest friend!" he called to the bottle, looking at it fondly.  Then, as if nothing had interrupted him at all, Keith continued, "I'm not gon--.... _ wait _ ..." His eyes widened, like the secrets of the universe had opened up to him.

Pointing up his fingers in a  _ fingergun _ -esque way, narrowing his rolling cesious eyes, the alcohol in his system running rampant, Keith all but screamed, "IT'S YOUR TURN, LANCEY LANCE!"

Eyes growing wide at the sight of Keith doing fingerguns, when fingerguns were  _ his _ thing, Lance called back, "IT IS KEITHY KEITH!" Giggling softly at the face the noirette made when Lance called him  _ Keithy _ , the brunet cleared his throat before assuming a dramatic expression. "Fuck -T-Tanner!"  Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as Lance saw the scene form before his eyes, the brunet pushed out a desperate, "Don't let go buddy!"

Man, he'd never really thought about it, but the scenes between Tanner and Aaron really  _ were _ pretty meaningful. It wasn't  _ gay _ persay, but... there was coding? Is that what the TV host had called it? Well, if he, as a character mind you, was going to go for someone, he would have totally gone for someone like Keith, er... Tanner. Keith?

Lance's brain felt fuzzy.

Drawing in a deep shuddering breath, Lance said, in a much more serious tone than he'd ever given the line before, "We- C'mon, we're  _ going _ to get out of this. We always have before!"

"I'm not gon--" Keith began once more, shifting to his knees so he could slide back along the floor, mimicking the way he would have fallen during the scene.  He looked back up at Lance, genuine tears in his eyes as he fought for control over his drunken emotions. Yeah, that wasn't gonna happen. "I'm not gonna let you get yerself killed for me!"  

Choking on a hiccuping sob that almost turned into a burp, Keith held up the bottle again.  With raven hair in his eyes, the noirette wasn't entirely sure what was happening around him, but he knew that this...?  This emotional response? This was how it was meant to be. It wasn't as well delivered as it should have been, but he was drunker than a crazy uncle at a wedding .

"Aaron,  _ please _ ," he continued, finally putting the bottle down as he focused everything he could on Lance's visage, which wavered through his drunken haze.  "I won't let you sacrifice yourself for  _ me _ , I can't!"  The young actor paused, letting the drama fill the room.  "Just… go...!"

Shaking his head, realizing just how powerful the emotions coursing through him were, Lance reached out further, knocking his poor drink to the ground. Probably for the best, he'd had enough. He didn't need to be as piss drunk as Keith. Channeling his usually wild expressiveness into a fine point, Lance stared into Keith's eyes and said, "I'm not leaving  _ you _ ." Because he got it now, Aaron could stand to lose Marina. She was important, but she wasn't  _ emotionally _ important to him. No, it was Ke-  _ Tanner _ he'd spent time with. Tanner that he'd gotten to know inside and out.

He would go through hell for Marina, but Aaron would die for Tanner.

"Tanner," Lance pushed out, his voice full of fear that he was desperately trying to control. "You're not dying unless I  _ damn well say you can _ ." Dragging in another breath, he yelled, "YOU HEAR ME? YOU'RE GONNA BE FINE!" Hiccuping after that line, Lance stared at Keith and found himself getting lost in those cesious eyes, ones that reflected the bar lights and glowed like fire.  _ Wow... he's... really gorgeous... _ the brunet realized, distantly.

Keith's world tipped suddenly, and his knee slipped out from under him. As his body was sent back down to the sticky floor, his cheek pressed against what he hoped wasn't something even more disgusting than spilled alcohol.  In any case, he managed to push his front half up and called, "You can't dictate who lives and dies, Aaron! No matter how much you want to!" He knew he was adding in lines, improvising at this point, but his mouth was on autopilot, because he finally understood what he'd been doing wrong all those times they'd done this scene before.

Tanner wasn't this battle hardened soldier who was giving up his life for the greater good.  He was a man who wanted the person he cared for to live, to protect the person that was most important.

It was so obvious, and yet, Keith hadn't seen it.

But now, as he stared up into Lance's eyes, albeit a bit shakily as the several shots, a bottle of wine, and half a bottle of coffee liqueur finally fully got to his brain...and his stomach for that matter, Keith felt like he was finally able to deliver the lines the way they were meant to be spoken.  "You have to live!" He reached up for Lance again, and was finally to grasp the brunet's cold, clammy hand in his own. The noirette's skin felt like it was on fire in contrast to Lance's. "You  _ can't _ save me!  Marina needs  _ you _ , she's waiting for  _ you _ ." 

Even now, those words were painful to speak, because he felt like he was giving up someone he loved to someone else.  It didn't matter that it was Lance he was talking to. It didn't matter that they were in a bar, drunk and screaming. All that mattered is that La-Aaron was his friend, and he needed to get him to understand.  "She's way more important, to you, to the mission to waste it on me! Aaron, please, go!"

Hardly blinking at the way Keith changed the lines, Lance felt the beginnings of tears welling up in his eyes, but he forced them back. He couldn't cry now, Keith was relying on him to be strong, because the fate of the world hung in the balance. So much was riding on this moment, he couldn't break down, but-

"I can't leave you. Not for anything, and not for Marina." Keith's eyes widened as Lance said the words, and just that tiny reaction brought forth the flood of words that was his next line.

"You don't get it, do you Tanner?" Lance asked, his frustration and need to be understood muddled slightly. "You aren't just my friend, you're not just my partner. You- You're the other piece of me!" And Tanner  _ was _ the other piece of Aaron, the fire that pushed him forward when he lost his own fire. The loose canon that kept their lives interesting. 

The comfort when things got bad.

"You're everything," Lance admitted, the words soft, like he was only just understanding how true they were. "We said we were in this together~! And guess what, that means I can't just-" Letting out a growl, Lance yelled, "Why the hell does it have to be you or her, Tanner? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PICK ANYONE OVER YOU?"

Had he fucked up those lines? Yeah... But so what? They were better this way. He felt them more.

Pulling in a staggering breath, Keith felt the edges of his jaw start to tingle.  It was not a pleasant sensation, and he knew what it entailed, but he couldn't stop the scene now.  This was so  _ important _ .  It didn't matter that he could feel the bile and alcohol rising in his throat.  He wouldn't stop now. "Just let me go! Please, save Marina!" His voice cracked on her name, feeling the pain that Tanner must have felt when the man he loved had chosen another over him.

Maybe what the interviewer had said was true.  Maybe he was chosen for Tanner because they were both gay.  It was so obvious, the way Tanner felt for Aaron, so painfully obvious that Aaron would never feel that way for Tanner in return, something Keith was far too used to at this point.  But that didn't change how either of them, character nor actor, truly felt.

"Whatever happens, Marina is more important!"  Keith swallowed heavily, trying to get the acrid, acidic taste out of his mouth.  He felt like there was foam on his tongue.  _ Oh, this isn't going to be good. _  "You know that, just as I know that you love her most!  You can't save us both; I won't let you give up yourself for me!"

Keith reached up his other hand, and immediately, Lance latched onto the man's digits.  At this point, Lance was halfway off the table, and Keith was sitting cross legged on the floor, but it felt like they were really in that collapsing building, their worlds crumbling around them.  Distantly, Keith could hear people cheering, others crying, a few swearing and yelling for Aaron to choose Tanner instead of Marina, but Keith didn't register them. All that mattered was Lance and the hope, as naive and foolish as it was, that coated those beautiful sapphire eyes.

The noirette wanted to reach out and brush his fingers along those gorgeous cheekbones, to cradle that jaw in his palm, to show just how much Tanner  _ loved _ Aaron.

Pulling Keith to his feet, edging backwards onto his table so he could properly kneel on it, Lance stared into the man's shimmering, tearful eyes, before closing his own and softly touching his forehead to the noirette's. As the bar fell silent around them, Lance softly said, "I know there's a world to save, Tanner. I know I have to save Marina, but... She's not you."

Drawing in a deep breath, the brunet clenched Keith's fingers tightly, feeling the man's slightly erratic pulse through his digits. "I don't love her, Tanner, I- I love you."

Dragging Keith forward, helping him onto the table, Lance said, "I know you said I can only save one of you, but... are you willing to bet on that?"

Giggling even as he fought to keep the vomit from rising in his throat, Keith raised their joined hands.  "I'll put ten bucks on that bet," he murmured, although it was actually more of a high pitched yell, leaning into Aaron’s...no,  _ Lance's _ embrace. Because Keith didn't think that it was Tanner or Aaron speaking anymore; it was  _ them _ , Lance and Keith.  His stomach was rolling, rejecting all of the alcohol from before, protesting at the swaying the both of them were performing.  It was starting to make him feel shaky.

Lifting Keith into the air, with one arm under the man's back and the other in the crook of his knees, Lance grinned from ear to ear, leaned close enough that their noses were touching, and tipsily said, "Better make that twenty."

As Keith grinned from ear to ear and the people around them cheered, Lance announced, "NOW, LET'S SAVE THE WORLD!" Keith lay in his arms limply, laughing hysterically and smiling up at Lance like the brunet was his everything. It made Lance feel like he was on top of the world. But he didn't care about being on top of anything, all he cared was that he had an armful of Keith.  _ Wow, a whole armful, that's a lot of Keith. Wow... Keith… _

The man's lips glistened slightly in the light, and Lance found himself transfixed by them, unable to look away. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but he was pretty sure he... wanted to…

_ Oh, no.  Oh lord...oh fuck... _  "I...I'm gonna throw up," Keith suddenly blurted, slapping his hands over his mouth.  "Down. Now!" It didn't matter that they were having a  _ bonding moment _ .  It didn't matter that Lance was so warm against him, and he just wanted to stay there.  Nope. All that mattered was that…

"Oops, guess I can't save both of you after all!" Without any preamble, Lance released Keith and let him roll to the floor beneath where he instantly began retching, throwing up all over the dirty floor. Slipping down off of the table, Lance patted Keith's back unhelpfully and said, "Yeah, Um... I think it's time to head home, buddy." Thank god Teslas came with automatic steering.

Dipping down, Lance waited until Keith had finished tossing his cookies, then lifted the man up in a fireman's carry. Turning to the bartender, Lance called, "I'll send you a check tomorrow for the mess. For now, I gotta get this one home." Grinning in a dopey way, Lance wandered out of the bar, patting Keith's back the whole time. "You're gonna be alright, dude, just... don't throw up on me."

Keith groaned, fisting his hands into the back of Lance's shirt.  "I'll try not to." And he wasn't lying; he would try his damndest to not get any bile on Lance's back.  That was the last thing he wanted right now. He already felt like his insides were caving in on themselves.  "Just...try not... _ urp _ ..." Keith swallowed against another wave of nausea that threatened to overcome him as Lance shouldered open the door of the bar. He shoved his nose into the fabric against Lance's back, hopeful that the man's scent would stabilize his stomach.  "Try not to move so much..."

"Keith," Lance began, trying not to snicker. "I'm walking. I kinda  _ have _ to move." As Keith let out another gagging sound, the brunet chuckled despite himself. "You can  _ not _ hold your liquor for  _ shit _ , can you?" When Keith whined, Lance smirked and said, "Yeah, you'll get used to it."

Carefully slinging Keith into the passenger side of his Tesla, Lance watched as the man fiddled with the seatbelt for a moment helplessly before leaning over and helping with it. Closing the door at last, Lance wandered over to his own side. Sliding into the seat, his car purring to life under him, Lance muttered, "Man, we uh... we did a good job on that scene, didn't we?" Giggling softly, the brunet sighed. "Coran would be proud. Hell, I think even Shiro would have liked it!" 

After a moment of deep, contemplative thought, Lance added, "That was a little... gay though, wasn't it? I'm pretty sure I'm- erm... Aaron's supposed to be in love with Marina, right?" When Keith's only answer was a grunt, Lance softly said, "Man, I think he's actually in love with Tanner."

Keith nuzzled against the soft leather of the seat, shielding his eyes from the light and the movement that would soon come.  "Probably," he mumbled, pulling the neck of his turtleneck up and over his nose. "Shiro and the writers made it so that the gay coding was more obvious than hidden.  It's supposed to scream it at the audience without being exp...eplic...explit...fuck what's the word...?" 

Pausing, trying to get his mind to work for five fucking seconds, Keith thought over what he was trying to say a little bit more.

The noirette felt the car pull out of the parking lot and out into the street.  They went over a bump, and Keith pushed out a whiny groan, his gut wanting to get rid of more of whatever was making it so upset, even though the man was pretty sure there was nothing left to throw up.

"Mkay...think I know what I was trying to say," he continued, blinking open his eyes to stare over at Lance, the man nowhere near as drunk as Keith had thought he had been, which was unfair.  "It's suppose to be a  _ read between the lines thing _ , that they have feelings for each other, but they are so intent on saving the world that they don't care about their own feelings.  But I don't think that that’s what Shiro had in mind. Marina doesn't seem to be a solid enough character to be a love interest, personally thinking.  Maybe we should bring it up with Shiro."

Yeah even after all that thinking, Keith still had no idea what he was saying.  Nothing made sense anymore other than the fact that the smell of Lance's car was permeating the thick material of his turtleneck.

"Maybe we should," Lance agreed, his eyes wandering over to Keith, who was slightly sick looking, definitely a mess, but simultaneously more attractive than he had any right to be.  _ Mmm, I think my mind is still stuck in that scene. Hopefully that helps me tomorrow if we have to go over it another bajillion times. _

"Personally, I think it makes sense that Aaron would fall for Marina," Lance ventured, waving a hand vaguely. "He doesn't really register his feelings for Tanner as being romantic, so he assumes those feelings for Marina are romantic instead." Shaking his head, the man glanced at the little electronic map that told him they were indeed headed back to his apartment. "I dunno, he's set up so he flirts with every girl who walks past him, and I don't blame him, but I think it's a facade?"

Shaking his head, Lance muttered, "I've had two too many drinks. Which, incidentally, is how many drinks I had." Pausing, he muttered, "Don't count that last one, it fell before I could finish it."

"How in the hell did I get more than you?" Keith honestly couldn't remember.  He remembered how he got the wine.  _ I ordered that... _  The shots...they'd been from...a few of the guys there?  None of them had been Lance, obviously. Had they? The only one he seriously couldn't remember getting was the liqueur.  "How did I get the coffee liqueur?" he asked aloud, turning back to Lance again. He was really curious.

"I dunno how you ended up with that coffee shit," Lance said with a laugh, even though he'd been the one to specifically ask the bartender to send someone out to get it. "But uh... the shots, those were from this one guy with uh... white hair? Purple streak through it? Kind like this." He mimed it with his hand before snorting. "I think he gave up after we started to get drunk."  _ Good riddance, Keith came with me, not with... whoever he was. _

Purple...oh... _ oh fuck, I forgot about that. _  "Heh..heh, yeah I dunno  _ who _ that was," Keith lied.  He was sure that it wasn't convincing at all, but maybe Lance was drunk enough to not notice.  "How many shots did he buy me? I thought there were others? Could of sworn there were two or three guys that like, crowded me when we got there." He really didn't want to think about Rolo.  That whole...affair had been a mistake. He'd already had to avoid talking about it once today, he really didn't need Lance questioning why it had happened. Keith was almost sure that he had told Rolo to fuck off, but he couldn't be sure.  Everything was a little fuzzy after those first two shots.

_ Jeez, Lance was right...I can't hold my liquor at all… _

Letting the matter of the man at the bar lie, mostly because he was too tipsy to actually ask anything coherent, Lance focused on the road for a minute, filing the information away for later. He was distracted, however, by Keith beginning to speak again.

"But, uh.  Nah, I get what you're saying.  Aaron was definitely set up as a straight male who just so happens to have vague feelings for Tanner that are masked in friendship.  Tanner's different, though, I guess? He was set up from the start to be the one to fall." Pausing, Keith snickered. The realization of what he had said dawned on him, and his laughter increased, but he had to stop suddenly as his stomach rolled again.  "Oooooh,  _ fuck _ ."  Slipping the cross-strap over his shoulder, Keith leaned forward and put his head between his knees.  "I'm never drinking with you again...but..ugh. Fuck." With his voice muffled by his turtleneck and his knees, Keith attempted to finish his thought.

"Tanner was set up to get the short end of the stick, Aaron ending up with Marina, and Tanner giving up on the business that they're in.  I mean, at least it's not one of those  _ kill-the-gays _ trope kind of movies.  Shiro would never do that, but it’s still not the best."

Thinking of the movie, Lance shook his head. "I dunno, there might not be anyone willing to sign off on a movie with a gay couple that isn't a B Movie." Puffing out his cheeks, Lance said, "But... I don't think Tanner is supposed to end up lonely; the movie isn't set up that way. And besides, Marina isn't going to give up  _ her _ life for Aaron. It's a relationship that's doomed to fail anyway."

Scratching his head, the brunet put his face against the steering wheel. "I think Aaron knows that, even though his character is written to fall in love with Marina. He knows that Tanner can be his rock, and he knows that in the end, he'd rather watch the world burn and save Tanner than lose him and save the world."

Laughing softly, Lance muttered, "I uh... I think we're both a bit drunk. Good thing we're almost home."

"Mm, I think we should definitely go through the script sometime and get their motivations down a bit," Keith suggested, glad that they had moved off of the topic of his sex life...not that he had one.  Honestly, he thought it might have been almost a year since he fucked around with someone.  _ C'mon, Kogane, brain outta the alcohol soaked gutter. _  "Uhm, we have a basic understanding of their personalities, but we need more than that.  Besides, Shiro would be happy to see us  _ working together _ ."

"Uh, I'd have fun? Running scenes with you," Lance muttered, glancing over at Keith. He still had his head between his knees, which made Lance chuckle. "And I'll even promise to avoid taking you to bars so we don't have a repeat of that."

As he spoke, his car pulled up into his parking garage, and Lance let out a soft sound. "Well, it uh... Looks like we're here." Giving Keith a once over, Lance snorted. "Don't worry about walking, I'll carry you buddy. You don't look like you could walk more than a foot without falling over."

"Ugh, probably not..." Keith agreed, still refusing to relinquish the tiny amount of control he'd gotten over his stomach by picking his head up.  "And I don't mind going to bars...it's fun...just don't let guys buy me drinks...I'm bad at saying no." 

Now that the car had stopped moving, Keith felt slightly better, but he knew as soon as he stepped out of the vehicle he'd want to barf again.  God, that was his least favorite part of being drunk. It made him feel empty and shaky. All he wanted to do now was curl up in a ball of sick and misery and sleep.

"Uhm, by the way...why'd we come to  _ your _ apartment?"  The man was able to slightly pick up his head and rest his temple on his knee, smirking over at Lance.  "Was it part of your plan all along to get me back to your place?" he joked. Snickering, Keith reached for Lance's hand.  "Gimme, would ya?"

The brunet looked confused, but he obliged, and Keith placed the man's cold palm against his forehead.  "Jeeeeesus..." the noirette groaned. "Sorry, the cold feels good. I feel like I'm literally burning out of my skin."

Grabbing the man's cheeks between his hands in mild annoyance, Lance smushed Keith's face and said, "I wasn't trying to get you into my bed if that's what you're wondering. It's just that my place is programmed into this thing, and yours isn't. It was easier." When Keith continued to stare at him, Lance stopped his mistreatment of his fellow actor's face and said, "Look, if it makes you feel any better, I was planning on taking the couch and giving you the bed anyway."

As Keith leaned into his palms, Lance smiled. "Hah, I guess we really can get along." Realizing how random that remark was, Lance pulled back a hand and scratched the back of his neck. "I was sorta dreading tonight, but I had fun." When Keith let out a sound of complaint, Lance pulled away completely before poking the man's forehead. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

Stepping out of his beloved car, Lance walked over to the passenger side and pulled the door open, catching Keith before he could slump out onto the pavement. Cradling the man, Lance unconsciously pushed his nose into Keith's hair. Despite the smell of vomit that lingered around the drunk man, he still smelled musky, kind of like he always did. It made Lance smile.

With steps that were as even as he could make them, Lance carried the man to the stairs and started down them, determined to make it to his apartment without tripping and falling. To be honest, despite Keith mostly being made out of muscle, Lance found he didn't really weigh all that much.  _ Maybe I shouldn't have made those comments about his waistline earlier. _

Ehh, it was too late to be feeling bad for stupid comments.

Keith groaned, the movement making his eyes go slightly dark as the world became a little fuzzy around the edges.  He shoved his nose into the crook of Lance's neck as he squeezed his arms around the brunet's shoulders. It's not that he was afraid that Lance was going to drop him.  He was actually pretty confident in the man's strength, as he'd shown in many a scene run-through of holding Keith above a gaping maw of a window. It was more of the fact that he wished the world would just...stop...spinning.

"Please stop talking..." he moaned, but almost immediately, Keith found that the lack of the rumble from Lance's voice made him feel slightly uncomfortable.  "Actually, keep talking. Please."

"Uhhhh-" The moment Keith told Lance to keep talking, he found himself scrambling to find something to say. So he just focused on the first thought that came to his mind. "Did you know, I took the part in this movie so I could work with you?" When Keith's arms tightened a bit more, Lance decided to continue. "Yeah, I know, it's pretty dumb, but I heard this role was open and I asked my agent and it just worked out. But it was you that made me want to take it. I've always looked up to you, you've got such a presence on screen, even when we're working together, I feel like I'm paling in comparison."

Stopping for a moment, Lance stared down at the next flight of stairs and said, "I'm sure you'll laugh at me once the alcohol wears off, but I'm not taking it back. You're pretty damn inspiring, Keith. Even though you did take a two year break. Hell, that only made me  _ more _ excited when you showed back up on the scene. Finally, you were acting in something big, instead of small movie titles to tide you over."

As they finally came out at the bottom of the parking garage, Lance stepped out into the night air and inhaled. "If we can actually work together, we'll definitely turn this thing into a hit. After all, we've already got people crawling all over it. Everyone is excited, if we can make it something big, something no one has ever seen before, then no one is going to forget us, or the movie."

As Lance started to babble, Keith found himself slipping.  Not physically of course; no, Lance kept a good enough grip around him that Keith was sure he was safe.  But the noirette felt like the alcohol was starting to wear off and he was just...tired. So, as Lance's voice wrapped around him in much the same way the brunet's arms did, Keith felt himself drifting into a semi-sleep.  He heard what Lance was saying, even answered a few times with a "Mmm" here and an "Uh-huh" there, but he wasn't able to do much more than that.

His breath came in even little spurts, ghosting over Lance's neck, as he settled more firmly into the man's arms.  It was a little strange. He had been once content with the fact that he couldn't really handle Lance even on the best days, but now as Lance carried him like he was the most delicate thing in the world, Keith couldn't remember why he had felt that way at all.

It would probably all be back to normal in the morning, back to them fighting it out every second, but for now, he could enjoy the calm, right?

As they reached Lance's apartment, the brunet settled Keith on his hip so he could fish his key out of his pocket and undo the lock. Pulling the man inside before closing the door behind him, Lance glanced at the noirette, only to find him drifting off against his shoulder. Letting out a soft puff of mirth, the man brushed a lock of hair out of Keith's face. "Alright, enough of me talking. It's bedtime for you."

They could talk more in the morning. For now…

Lance carried Keith off to his room, a smile still on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[End Scene]_


	4. Unscripted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DING DING DING, Nighttyger guessed it!!
> 
> Anyway, have fun with our hungover, anger bois.
> 
>  
> 
> _They so precious_

"Ughhhhhh," Lance groaned, clutching his head in his hands. As he lay flopped over a prop, his brain trying to murder him, the brunet muttered, "I'm serious here, Pidge, can someone turn off the lights. To like, the world?" He might not have gotten drunk the night before, but Martinis always gave him the _worst_ headaches in the morning and he wanted it to _end_.

Unfortunately, Shiro hadn't given them a sick day. Apparently, actors didn't _get_ sick days.

"I'm not turning out anything, Lance," Pidge told him, their voice unforgivingly unimpressed. "It's your fault for being a dumbass."

"Could you guys, like...talk not at all?" Keith murmured, his own voice grating on his senses.   _I never should have let people buy me shots…_ **_Never again._ ** That was a lie, if there ever was one.  Keith could never say no to free alcohol.

Curled up in Shiro's director's chair, because it had been the only seat close enough that he could sink into, Keith yanked his hoodie down over his eyes.  Well, Lance's hoodie to be more accurate. That morning, they hadn't really had time to get Keith all the way back home before they had to be there to shoot for the day.  Thus...he borrowed Lance's deep blue hoodie. Thankfully, it was thick enough that it managed to block out most of the light from the room. The distressed jeans that Lance had also lent him were scratchy against his cheek, where he'd been resting his face against his knees.

Now that he really thought about it, the noirette realized that _most_ of what he was wearing was borrowed from Lance.   _Go figure._

"That is a statement bordering on the impossible, Keith!  We are actors, we _must_ speak!!"

"Coran… noooo," Keith whined as soon as the ginger acting coach crashed into the room, far too full of pep for any morning, much less _this_ morning.  To be honest, it wasn’t even _that_ early, but Keith had gotten almost no sleep the night before.  Between the deadly bouts of nausea and the fact that Lance’s cat wouldn’t leave him the hell alone, Keith had had a bit of a hard night.  "Please stop being you for five minutes."

"Nonsense, Keith!" the man crowed, all but dancing over to the noirette and twirling around him. "Me is the only thing I can be! Unless of course, I'm acting, in which case, I can be-"

"Silent," Lance finished, taking pity on Keith at last. "You can be silent because you don't want Keith or me to murder you."

"Erm, well, I do suppose I could be quiet?" Coran asked, twirling his manicured mustache in momentary confusion. After about a five second reprieve however, he stage-whispered, "Why are we being quiet?" Even this was enough to make Keith groan from the small lump of clothing he'd formed on Shiro's chair.

"Because these two idiots got drunk out of their minds last night," Pidge informed the acting coach, tapping a finger against their arm as they leaned over Lance. _"Someone_ thought that going out to a bar would be a good idea, and now they're both paying the price."

" _Apparently_ ," Keith started, pulling his head from the pile of hoodie sleeves he'd been hiding behind, "I was the only one that got shitfaced last night.  Lance, why are _you_ complaining?  You're the one that let me drink..." he paused, counting on his fingers the amount of drinks that he could remember.  "Eight shots, a bottle of wine, and then half a bottle of some kind of liquor."

The noirette had been able to remember a bit more of the night before than he had originally thought, but there were still so many pieces and bits that he _couldn't_ recall.  Like...how he had ended up in Lance's bed when he couldn’t remember leaving the bar, why he had the distinct impression that he had been carried.  Those last few things were just...lost to him.

"Hm, well.  In any case, coffee is always good for a hangover!" Coran crooned, dancing around the pile that was Keith.  "Here, I have brought you your favorite! Double shot mocha peppermint Frappuccino, hold the ice, double the whipped cream!"  The man shoved the drink under Keith's nose with a flourish.

"Oh _fuck_ ," he groaned, slapping a sleeve covered hand over his mouth at the smell of the coffee.   _So that's what the liquor had been..._  Lurching out of the chair, Keith stumbled over to the nearest trash can.  There was no way he was making it to a bathroom. Nope. Nosiree.

"If I remember correctly," Lance muttered. "You drank those shots out of, and I quote, pure spite." As the sound of Keith being violently ill met his ears, the man half-halfheartedly called, "Don't get that hoodie dirty, my little sis got it for me."

The only response he got was another retch.

Puffing out his cheeks, Lance dragged himself upright and wobbled over to his costar. Putting a comforting hand on Keith's shoulder, the brunet said, "So buddy, let's uh... lay off the coffee liqueur next time." All that earned him was a baggy eyed glare from Keith that he could practically feel drilling a hole into his brain. "Oof, alright, next time I won't let you drink that much. Promise."

"Uh oh, looks like our two stars had a little too much fun last night," Matt observed with a chuckle, striding into the room. "You two are fucking _screwed_ by the way. I _hope_ you know that."

Groaning lightly, but feeling better now that his stomach wasn't trying to turn itself inside out, Keith leaned away from the trashcan and wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.  "What are you talkin' about, Matt?" the noirette wondered, his voice wavering. He sat on the floor for a second, letting the cold of the concrete sink into his thighs. It felt good against his flaming skin.

Pidge strode over with a bottle of water and pressed it to Keith's forehead, their unamused expression softening slightly. The noirette instantly sighed at the cool sensation of the plastic.  "Well, we can either wait for Shiro to come and kick your asses, or I can tell you now. Your choice," Matt muttered as he too made his way over to the impromptu hangover-powwow.

Glancing between the faces of the two siblings, Lance thought hard for a few seconds before his headache flared up. "Uh, can we take option three? Can someone kill me now?" he requested, slumping down beside Keith, leaning against the hungover noirette as he did so. "I dunno about y'all, but that sounds like a good compromise to me."

"Agreed."  Keith drew the hood back up and covered his face once more with the sleeves.  He was very thankful for how big the sweater was on him. It swamped him, for lack of a better phrase.  "I'll take option three. Just...bullet right through the brain would be good." He grabbed Lance's hand and mimicked someone shooting him.  "Lights out."

"I don't think that's going to...uh...well."  Matt stuttered and scratched the back of his neck.  "Let's just say, Shiro is… livid. Like, think wrath of god times eleven at _least.”_

"About _what?_ " Keith whined, shoving his face into Lance's shoulder.  Normally, he'd be shuffling away from the brunet, getting as far away as possible from someone he usually just fought with, but hangovers made him clingy and Lance was very soft.

"There's really no good way to break this to you guys," Pidge admitted, crouching down in front of the two of them. "But uh, I dunno how _drunk_ you two really were, but you had better hope you were _really damn drunk_ because you're going to need a good excuse for this. I don't think I've ever seen him _this_ -"

"KEITH! LANCE!" Whining at that sound, clapping his hands over Keith's ears in the attempt to shield the moaning noirette from further noise, Lance looked towards the doors and was rewarded with them slamming open. Standing there, looking like a vengeful god rather than the usually even-keeled director he normally looked like, was Shiro. "ALRIGHT, YOU TWO," he continued, his voice booming loud enough to make Lance cringe. "YOU'VE GOT A LOT OF EXPLAINING TO DO."

"What, why?" Lance whimpered, struggling to his feet, helping Keith stand up as well. "What did we-"

"Oh, you know exactly what you did!" Shiro snapped, his eyes blazing with fury. "What the _hell_ were you thinking?! Going into that bar and practically _reciting_ lines from this movie without any go ahead or any thought for how your drunk performances would reflect on the rest of us? You two caused a fucking _spectacle_ in the middle of one of the most crowded bars in Hollywood, let yourselves end up plastered all over the news for being _plastered_ , _and_ if that wasn't all bad enough, now there are rumors going around that the two of you are having an affair!  I don't need that kind of press coverage!"

Slightly blown back by the swell of information, Lance held the hungover Keith close to his chest somewhat protectively and said, "Hey, leave us alone, we didn't mean to-"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU MEANT TO DO!" Shiro thundered, his hands clenched at his sides into fists. "WHAT I CARE ABOUT IS THE MEDIA DISASTER I'M CURRENTLY DEALING WITH! Couldn't one of you have at least _thought_ for a few seconds before _climbing up onto a fucking table and screaming your fucking lines at the top of your lungs!"_

"Oof, ouch, that one was personal," Lance mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as Keith struggled away from him only to stagger alarmingly. "Was that really called for?"

"YES IT FUCKING-" Matt put a hand on Shiro's arm, and finally the director dragged in a deep breath. "Yes, it was called for, because someone has to get it through your skulls that you screwed up last night and if not me, then _who?"_

Keith heard Shiro yelling, but he couldn't really register any of the words.  They were bouncing around in his head like knives, and all he was really able to do was cling to Lance so that he wouldn't be sent back down to the floor to wallow in self-misery.

"I...I didn't realize it was _that_ bad," the noirette grumbled, his voice muffled from where his head was pressed against Lance's shoulder.  The brunet seemed a lot more steady than he was, so he just clung on for dear life. "I mean...I think I remember seeing some people with their phones out, but I--"

"THEN THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOUR FIRST CLUE TO STOP WHILE YOU WERE AHEAD!" Shiro roared in return, cutting Keith off.  The young actor just whined some more and covered his ears. Pinching the bridge of his nose, the director puffed out another deep breath.  "Look, the both of you should know better than to start reciting an entire scene in public, even when you're inhibitions are lowered due to alcohol."

Matt stepped away from them then and opened a laptop that was hooked up to a large display that they usually used for reviewing takes.  "Babe, it might be easier to show them _what_ they did than keep yelling at them."  The blond tapped out a few keys as the display lit up, bringing up Youtube.  Pausing, the tech supervisor winced and said, "You guys might not like the way they're describing you but, uh.  Bear with me."

Matt typed in, _Local Actors caught in the midst of a sordid affair._

"Pardon?" Keith squeaked out, shrinking as Shiro's angry gaze drifted to them once again.   _Oh this isn't going to be good._

"Just tell me now..." Shiro rumbled, folding his arms over his chest.  "Are the two of you having an affair… Or are you not?"

And just as he spoke, everything was drowned out by the cheer of a crowd and Keith's voice yelling out, _"IT'S YOUR TURN, LANCEY LANCE!"_

Blinking up at the screen, Lance shrunk back as his own face swung into view. His cheeks were dusted pink from the alcohol, and even as he watched, he could see himself grow redder before yelling out, _"IT IS, KEITHY KEITH!"_ Sighing, Lance kneaded his forehead. Apparently, his brain hadn't been playing tricks on him because yes, that whole thing _had_ happened. The worst part was that Lance hadn't even been that _drunk;_ he'd just been tipsy. He should have been able to control himself.

But seeing Keith with his inhibitions down had done something to him, so... he wasn't sure he could have stopped himself anyway.

Despite all of this, Lance still softly muttered under his breath, "Did I- Did I really call you Keithy?"

"Well, I apparently called you Lancey, so we're even," Keith whispered, looking up in horror at the screen.

"That doesn't answer my question," Shiro ground out, even as Pidge and Coran wandered away to go get a better look at the video playing in the background. "I want you two to be straight with me."

"Kinda hard if they're gay, Shiro," Pidge called from over their shoulder.

"Regardless!" the director snapped. "Are you or are you not _fucking_." Lance winced at the brutally blunt tone of voice Shiro had adopted.

Keith sputtered, trying to wrench his eyes away from the shitshow that had become their publicity.  Eyes flicking between Lance, Shiro, and the monstrosity on the screen, Keith all but screeched, "FUCKING, NO, WHY WOULD I BE FUCKING LANCE OF ALL THE FUCKING PEOPLE SHIRO DON'T FUCKING SAY WE'RE FUCKING WE'RE NOT!!"

Immediately, Keith grabbed his head and sunk back down to the floor, instantly regretting yelling that hard.   _How many times did I say fucking...it had to have been a lot._

"I... didn't know you were that against us fucking, Keith," Lance muttered, crossing his arms and turning away from the noirette. "But I'll make sure to _keep it in mind."_

“Now is _not_ the time for that, Lance!” Keith groaned, rocking slightly on his heels.

"Okay, which one of you is bullshitting me?" Shiro demanded, staring at the two of them like he wanted to tear his hair out. "I've fucking _had_ it with you two, and we haven't even started filming.  So why don't you two _tell me what happened last night."_

Keith remained on the floor.  "That dipshit got me shit faced!" he accused, throwing a hand up at Lance to point at him, but it was covered up by the enormous sleeve.

"And _this fucker_ threw up all over my bedroom floor, so y'know what Keith, I think we're even!" Lance announced, spinning and directing an accusatory finger at the man.

"YOU WOULDN'T TELL ME WHERE THE BATHROOM WAS, YOU JUST KEPT ON SNORING LIKE A FUCKING CHAINSAW!"  Oof, he shouldn't have been yelling. He should _not_ because now it was making his head hurt, and Keith felt his stomach flip again.

"Will the two of you shut the fuck up already!?" Shiro bellowed, but Keith wasn't done.

"I tried to clean it up!" the noirette said, his voice shrill.

"YOU JUST SMEARED IT INTO MY CARPET MORE!" Lance yelled right back, before throwing his arms up and grunting in frustration. "Look, I-" He huffed. "I don't know how much _you_ remember, but I had a good time, for what it's worth before everything went to shit."

"Can you two _please_ not use this opportunity to work out your relationship issues!" Shiro demanded, his hands on his hips and his eyes full of pure impatience. "I don't care how much the two of you enjoyed _fucking,_ but I hope you realize how much your actions are jeopardizing this-"

"WE AREN'T FUCKING, SHIRO!" Keith all but screamed, curling up on the floor to try and get away from the yelling and the loud screaming that was coming from the speakers.

"YOU COULD HAVE JUST FUCKING SAID SO!!" Shiro thundered.

"HE DID!" Lance exclaimed right back, before bending down and helping Keith sit up against the trash can. Finding the bottle of water that Pidge had handed to Keith, Lance held it against his costar's forehead as he glared up at Shiro. "Alright, man, you've made your point. I'm pretty sure we both get it; we fucked things up, but you told us to hang out and start getting to know each other better, so we _did."_

Shiro crossed his arms and in the silence, the words from the screen echoed out at them. _"Whatever happens,"_ the Keith on the screen drunkenly slurred, powerful emotions struggling to break through his tone. _"Marina is more important! You know that, just as I know that you love her most. You can't save us both; I won't let you give yourself up for me!"_

With just as much force, Lance's flushed face called back, _"I know there's a world to save, Tanner, I know I have to save Marina, but... She's not you. I don't love her, Tanner I- I love you."_

"Wow," Lance muttered, tipping Keith's head back a bit so he could look down at him. "We were... really gay last night.”

"You're the one who said you loved me, dipshit..." Keith groaned, wanting to let his head flop forward again so he could retch up more of whatever was making him feel so awful.  Lance just kept a grip on his face and kept the cool water bottle back against his skin.

"It was part of the scene," Lance muttered defensively, even though it obviously hadn't been.

"I must say!" exclaimed Coran, turning on his heels and waltzing over to where the three of them were grouped together. "This scene the two of you filmed is positively _exquisite!"_

"What are you talking about?" Shiro asked, finally leaving Keith and Lance alone so he could go and look at the video. As he got closer, Pidge hopped on their feet, a look of excitement shining behind their glasses.

"I mean, I know it's not _the best_ circumstance for it, but listen to their lines! It's so good!" As the four of them quickly became wrapped up in rewinding and replaying Lance's and Keith's humiliation, the two actors in question glanced at each other before sighing.

"Sorry," Lance said shortly, his expression genuinely downcast. "I didn't mean to put you in this position. I uh- I mean I- Erm-" Stumbling over his words, Lance finally admitted, "I heard what they said in that interview, about you having a previous affair and it blowing up? I- I didn't look into it or anything, don't worry! But... I didn't mean to put you in that situation again. That's not fair to you."

Shrugging, although the motion brought more discomfort than he was willing to admit, Keith tried to play it off.  "Eh, it was a long time ago. Not something I should have to worry about anymore." _But it is something you worry about, so why are you being all coy about it?_  Shoving himself, although gently, to his feet, Keith snuggled down into the hoodie Lance had lent him.  It smelled far better than his mouth tasted, so that was a plus, right?

"Yeah but... Stuff like that sticks with you," Lance muttered. "I guess I have the benefit of my love life not being quite as interesting to the tabloids, but you still end up with things you'd rather not deal with." Shaking his head, the brunet said, "But... eventually it does get better. People forget, or it becomes old news and they stop caring. There will always be something juicier to go after. Right?"

When Keith didn't say anything, Lance rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm really bad at this stuff."

Keith pulled his face from the sleeves of the hoodie and winced at the influx of light again.  "Sorry, what?" It wasn't that he had meant to ignore Lance. There was just too much going on, the video in the background, Shiro yelling for someone to grab him a notebook, the incessant pounding in Keith's skull, it was all too much for him to deal with. At that point, he had started blocking his ears from all of it.

Which just so happened to block out what Lance was saying as well.  "Sorry, my head is killing me...it's hard to focus."

Expression freezing for a second, Lance was still before he pushed a smile back on his face. _Heh, yeah, because you never pay attention anyway. I guess one night of getting drunk together doesn't mean you like me any better._ Well... That was life, right? He knew better than to assume Keith would want to be friends or even tolerate him.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it."

"Alright you two," Shiro called, interrupting their conversation, probably for the best in Lance's estimation. "I've let you both slack off enough; you two don't deserve time to sit around after that disaster last night." Clapping his hands together, the sound making even Lance wince, the director called, "Alright, someone call Allura and tell her we're not starting on scene five until after lunch. For now-" He fixed Keith and Lance with an intense look.

"I want you two to run that scene again."

"Wh- But Shiro~!" Lance complained loudly, feeling his bones liquefying just at the thought. "I thought you said we were done with the scene!"

"Just humor me," the man said, walking over to the two of them and handing them each a piece of paper.

Taking his dubiously, Lance asked, "What are these?"

"Replacement lines," Shiro said, a satisfied smile finally pulling over his lips. "We're going to try this scene _my way."_

 

* * *

 

"Here you go, Keith!"

Hearing his name called, the noirette turned quickly to see Coran walking towards where he and Lance had been going over their lines for scene five.  The acting coach held out a hand as he drew closer, and in his other was clasped a new cup of Keith's favorite coffee.

"I assume your stomach has settled enough?  Also, have some aspirin for that headache of yours!" Coran practically sang, dropping the pills into Keith's outstretched hand.  The noirette took a sip of the coffee, and yes, his stomach was definitely better enough that he was confident that it would stay down.

Knocking the aspirin back, Keith glanced over at his costar, the brunet complaining about how the last run through had destroyed his throat for a little bit.  The new script that Shiro had given them, coupled with the fact that Keith still sort of remembered the emotions he had felt when screaming out his lines in the bar the night previous, had made the experience much more enjoyable for everyone involved.  And now, as Keith sipped at his coffee and smiled slightly at Lance, he thought that maybe this was gonna work out okay.

"You think Shiro's gonna make us run that scene again?" Lance joked, elbowing Keith in the side lightly as the man nibbled on the straw of his drink. "Because if he does, I swear dude, I'm gonna scream."

Glancing towards the back door of the studio, Lance motioned at it and started forward, talking all the while. "I guess he liked what we did last night, even if he doesn't want to admit it." Laughing as he elbowed the door open and stepped out into the fresh air, the man admitted, "And y'know, so do I. That was absolutely wild."

Following after the brunet, Keith chuckled quietly.  "A trip, to be sure." The events of the night before, even though they'd _watched_ it a few times after that, were still a little lost on Keith.  He couldn't really remember any of it, just the feeling of it. "I think it worked out 'cause we were able to do things at our own pace as we figured it out.  Plus, being drunk always helps make things a little more fun."

There was a soft breeze flowing over the area, and even though the sun was bright as all fuck, it didn't make Keith want to pull an ostrich and stick his head in the sand.  "But for future reference, the next time we go over our lines? No shots."

"I'm telling you, Keith," Lance insisted, waving his hands animatedly. "This guy kept buying you shots and you kept drinking them, telling me you were doing it out of spite. I wasn't sure how to stop you." Shaking his head, Lance let out a low whistle. "You really had it out for that dude. I almost feel bad for him."

"Meh, he deserved it, after the shit he put me through," Keith grumbled, taking a large sip of the caffeinated beverage. Lance stared at him, his mouth slightly agape, and Keith drew up an eyebrow.  "What?" Offering the coffee forward he asked, "Why are you staring at me like that? Do you want some?"

"I- What did he-" Lance _would_ have questioned Keith more, he really would have. He was _enjoying_ the banter with the man, but it was just then that the other star of the movie stepped into his line of sight and all other thoughts were forgotten.

God, there she was. Lance instantly felt his head going fuzzy as he stared at the woman, his eyes widening and a dopey smile spreading over his face. She was tall, that was the first thing that most people noticed. Tall for a woman at any rate. With long, sweeping white hair that hung down to her waist and dark mocha skin that seemed to shine in the sun, she was the picture of beauty.

Needless to say, Lance was smitten.

As turquoise eyes brightened and a demure yet warm smile appeared on her lips, the woman called, "Oh! Keith! Lance~" Walking over to them, Allura, for that's who it was, waved a hand cheerfully and said, "I was just thinking of looking for you two, after all, I heard that you'd finished filming the scene at last. Pidge said you nearly gave Shiro an aneurysm."

"Oh, well, y'know, all in a day’s work," Lance exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and putting on his most _captivating_ smirk. "It's not easy, but an actor's work is never done."

Keith's first reaction was, _What the fuck just happened?_  One moment, they'd been about to start shitting on his old flame, and the next, Lance was acting like he'd popped a screw out of his head.  Okay, logically, Keith knew what had happened. Any woman as pretty as Allura would command the attention of a poor lovesick puppy like Lance.  But it was still pretty jarring to say the least.  

Because one moment _he’d_ had the brunet’s focus and now, Lance had the most _ridiculous_ look on his face that Keith had ever seen.

Turning his cesious eyes towards the newcomer, Keith held out a hand in greeting.  "How's it been, Allura?"

The woman smiled at him, taking his hand softly in hers.  "I have been quite well, thank you, Keith. My final few episodes were just wrapped up a few days ago."  Releasing Keith's hand, she tucked a lock of shining, white hair behind her ear. "It disappointed me, to not be able to work with you more on it.  I heard that you got the part for Ellie's replacement, though, correct?"

"Yep, sure did," Keith answered, smirking easily at the woman.  She was beautiful, even he could see that. If he had been straight, he probably would have been fawning over her much like their co-star was at the moment.  Speaking of which… If the noirette looked hard enough, he was sure he could see a little bit of drool drip from Lance's mouth. Rolling his eyes, Keith said, "Lance, stop acting like a dog."

"The only time I act like a dog is when I'm relentlessly pursuing love~" Lance said, straightening and popping his collar, grinning at Allura.

"Alright, that's... interesting," the woman said... _Interesting! YES!! Finally, I think she's starting to fall for me, too~_ Lance thought, a fluttering forming in his chest. Turning away from him, Allura faced Keith and said, "I think you'll make a good replacement for Ellie. At least they were able to get someone competent in there before one of the less experienced actors snatched it up."

"Wait, what're you guys talking about?" Lance asked, realizing that he actually had no idea what was going on. Leaning around Keith suspiciously, Lance asked, "Why are you replacing Ellie? Who's they?"

"It's for the TV show both Keith and I are working on!" Allura exclaimed, clasping her hands together and smiling at Keith. "Honestly, I'm quite happy that I can work with you here, Keith. It's nice to have a relatively familiar face around."

"Agreed," Keith answered, rolling his eyes at Lance.  Leaning back on his heels, the noirette wiggled his eyebrows at the taller male.  "It'll be nice to work with someone I already know I have good onscreen chemistry with.  Less hiccups along the way."

When Lance just looked at Keith with confusion in his expression, the noirette chuckled.  "Don't worry about it, Lance. It's a weird live action remake of some 80s show. I guess Allura's character, Ellie, got killed off or something, and they needed a new...what did they call it?" Keith turned back to Allura, her eyes shining the more they talked about work.   _Yep, same old Allura_.  Always the workaholic.

"Oh!  Yes, they are called Envoys," the woman explained, her voice peppy as she started to sway slightly.  "Ellie was one of them, but she got killed and they need a new one or the world will be destroyed or some such nonsense."

"Either way, I think working on a movie together is vastly more interesting than working on a TV show," Keith answered, taking another sip of his coffee.  It was starting to get warm out, which was unfortunate, but when they were filming in a section of LA, it kind of happened. "More time to actually work on lines and get the on screen chemistry going.  Speaking of which, Lance, do you wanna go over the next scene with Allura really quick _before_ we have to do it in front of Shiro?"

"Oh, trust me," Lance said, leaning forward and smirking at Allura, effectively ignoring what the noirette had asked. "We're going to have _great_ chemistry, on and off the screen." The woman let out a soft laugh and shook her head in answer to his words, which was a win in Lance's book.

"I think Keith was trying to talk about running lines together," the woman pointed out in that light, lilting voice that had Lance so enchanted.

"Any time I get to spend in your presence is a good moment to me," Lance cooed, only for Keith to step on his foot. "HEY! OW!" he exclaimed, hopping up and down on his good foot, staring at Keith with his mouth open in betrayal. "Why did you do that?!"

Keith blinked slowly before taking a nice, long sip of his coffee.  "Oops," he said, titling his head. "Didn't see your foot there."

"I didn't know you were blind," Lance bit out in response, baring his teeth in what _might_ have been a smile. "Do you need me to lead you around everywhere, Keith, or are you good?"

Cocking his hip out and resting a hand on said hip, Keith shrugged.  The sleeve of the hoodie he returned to wearing after their last scene fell over the hand that held his coffee, and he waved it around for a moment.  "I'm sorry, your _charms_ are just so _blinding_ , it's hard to tell where _anything_ is," he said, sarcasm coating his words like honey.  He gave the brunet a bright grin, one that masked the feeling of discomfort that came from seeing Lance flirt with people.

_It's just that is awkward to see him trying so hard._

_It’s not that it makes me jealous or anything.  Where the hell would you come up with that?_

"Uhm, I apologize, did I miss something?" Allura whispered, holding her hands up as if she were physically trying to back out of the conversation.

"Oh, Keith was just being Keith," Lance said, waving his co-star off. He didn't want Allura to leave, not when she'd just arrived and _most_ of the time she'd been there had been spent talking to Keith. "You didn't miss a thing, Allura~"

"Well, that's good." Smiling, the woman said, "You know, I'm glad to see you and Keith getting along so well. I'd heard there were issues, but I suppose those worries were unfounded." Giving a little bow, Allura continued, "Hopefully, I won't disturb the chemistry the two of you have."

Before Lance could insist that she could never disturb anything and if anyone was going to be disrupting things it would be Keith, the white haired woman said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must get to makeup." Cheeks lightly dusting pink, Allura said, "Romelle wants to spend extra time on my hair so I'm ready for the scene. It'll be my first one of this film, after all!"

Eyes zoning in on the way Allura's face reddened at the mention of their hair and makeup supervisor, Keith smirked lightly at the woman.  "I'm sure she's gonna make it look amazing, Allura. But don't let her keep you in there for _too long_ ,"  Keith paused and gave her a little wink.  "She can be _very_ persuasive."

Allura blinked quickly, and she looked down at the ground shyly.  "Well, I'll be sure to keep my eye out." With a simple smile, Allura turned on her heel, her ivory curls bouncing as she did so.  "See you two later!"

"See you."  Keith smiled as he watched her leave.

And that was when he felt the daggers enter his back.  Looking over his shoulder, Keith took another sip of his coffee and tried not to do a spit take at the ferocity of Lance's gaze.  "Can I help you? Or are you having fun staring at my ass again?"

"Hey, fuck you dude, I was trying to get her attention!" Lance insisted, throwing up his arms in the air. "Why on earth did you have to make the whole conversation about you? I just wanna talk to her!"

Throwing up his hands, Keith shook his head.  "Hey, that's not my fault. Maybe if you didn't throw creepy pick-up lines at her, she'd talk to ya more."

"CREEPY!?!" Lance burst, his eyes almost popping out of his skull at the force of his exclamation. "Look, Keith, I know that you don't have any idea how to woo women because you've never had to try before, but I'll have you know-"

"Have me know what, Lance?" Keith cried, fully exasperated with the topic of this conversation.  Brain catching onto the rest of what Lance had said, Keith pointed a finger of the hand that was holding his coffee and added, "And what the hell is that supposed to mean?  I've never had to try before?"

"Well, you are gay, Keith," Lance pointed out, crossing his arms. "So _obviously,_ you haven't been flirting with any women any time recently. So yes, I'd say I'm slightly more qualified in this matter."

"Oh??  I'm gay??" Keith said, putting a hand to his cheek in mock surprise.  "OHMYGOD I DIDN'T KNOW THAT!! Thank you _ever_ so much for letting me know!"

"What the fuck, Keith??" Lance demanded, throwing up his hands in the air. "Why are you being such an asshole?"

"I dunno, maybe because I have to sit here and cringe while you flirt with everything that dares to breathe?" Keith threw back, tossing his empty coffee cup at the nearest trash can, which was still fairly far away.  It bounced off the rim, and he stomped over to slam it into the can.

"I happen to actually _like_ Allura, Keith," Lance spat, defensively crossing his arms. "And I'm sorry that my flirting doesn't pass your high standards, but thankfully, I'm not gonna be flirting with you, so you'll never have to deal with it." Huffing under his breath, unsure why Keith's derision hurt so much, Lance muttered, "So... there. Get your panties unbunched so I don't have to do it for you."

Keith gripped onto the edge of the trashcan and stared down into its depths for a moment, trying to get a bit of his anger and annoyance under control.  "Whatever," he grumbled. "I'm just trying to save you the embarrassment, but I guess my assistance isn't needed in you making a fool of yourself. You can do that on your own just _fine.”_  He didn't quite understand why the thought of Lance actually _liking_ Allura made him so uncomfortable, but it did.  And he didn't know how to deal with that fact. So instead of mulling it over, he tucked it into the back of his mind to fret over at another time.

"Let's just go inside and start going over lines.  Wouldn't want you missing your _big chance_ with Allura."  Keith let go of the trashcan and fled inside, content on getting the last ten minutes out of his mind.

Standing there, staring at the ground, Lance was silent for moment before letting out a curse. "Shit," he bit out, clenching his hands before unclenching them, trying to make his insides settle down. Keith was right, he had a scene to run, and he would be running at least the end of it with _Allura_ , but...

It felt like he and Keith had taken one step forward and then two steps back. And it bothered him more than it should.

Shaking it out of his mind, Lance slipped his hands into his pockets and followed Keith. Someone would probably be in to do their makeup, and then they'd be too busy working for him to think. Maybe, Lance thought as he slipped back in through the back door, he preferred it that way.

Softly, the door closed behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[End Scene]_


	5. Scene Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Return of Lancey Lance and Keithy Keith, 
> 
> Or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm, so. xD 
> 
> We're still goin', and you guys keep reading, so. WE APPRECIATE YOU ALL.

_ Softly, summer light filtered in through dusty windows. It bounced off of the metal of the stools at the bar, reflecting back at the two men seated at the cozy booth. Both of them were silent, though the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was almost like they were waiting for something to happen. Whether this was a normal mood for them to be in or not wasn't immediately apparent. _

_ Leaning back in his seat, the taller of the two men lifted his soda to his lips. The drink was going flat already, the bubbles hardly rising to the surface. That didn't seem to bother the brunet however, and he took several long sips before letting the glass settle back on the table. His fingers had left prints in the condensation. _

_ "It's been a while since we've been out to this part of the country, ey?" Tilting his head up, a small, bemused expression on his face, Lance caught the eye of his companion before snorting softly. The shorter man eyed him through almond eyes, their cesious irises turning almost gold in the dusty sun.  Though he didn't respond to Lance's words, he dragged a hand through his lanky, noirette hair, letting it ghost back behind his ears, perfect as always. This was as good an answer as any, and Lance had long since learned how to read these little non-verbal cues the other gave him. _

_ Cracking a smile, Lance commented, "You almost miss it, don't you Tanner? It's all so quaint. Quiet." _

_ Glancing off towards one of the grimy windows, hand holding his hair back from his forehead, Keith shrugged.  "Miss my hometown?" he wondered aloud with a slight chuckle, pulling a leg up to rest on the cushiony booth beneath him.  He mulled the thought over in his mind for several, long seconds. "Hardly," he finally snorted, leaning his head against the back of the booth.  "You know me, Aaron, I can't stick in one place for too long." _

_ Keith stared up at the dusty ceiling, the archaic fan spinning so slowly that it barely even displaced the air around them.  How many years had it been since they'd sat in this diner? Had to have been at least three. Smirking lightly, the noirette glanced down at his partner, who was taking another sip from the soda that he'd had since they first showed up.  There was the clinking of silverware against china up near the bar. Lowering his voice, the man muttered, "If I remember correctly, the last time we were here, we blew up a storefront." _

_ Almost instantly, someone cleared their throat and Keith had to force himself to not snicker.  "I think they're still a tad bit upset about that." _

_ If Keith's feet had still been under the table, Lance would have kicked him reproachfully. "I told you, you can't go in guns blazing every time, Tanner. Sometimes, you gotta take it slow, be smooth about it." This last comment was accompanied by a wink, which he directed at a passing waitress. Glancing back at his partner,  Lance smirked. "Unfortunately, you're the type to shoot first and ask questions later. Except we can't ask questions, because usually they're already dead." _

_ Keith raised an eyebrow, and Lance countered with, "What, you can't deny it buddy. Jamison was definitely dead, you shaking him and asking where the hell the key was had exactly _ no chance  _ of actually producing an answer." _

_ Leaning forward, Keith pointed at the brunet and replied, "Hey, when I grabbed him, he was still breathin'.  Not my fault he keeled over after the first shake." So maybe Lance had a point, but like hell was Keith going to actually admit it. _

_ Remembering that disaster in clear and perfect detail, Lance guffawed, tossing his head back and- _

 

And choking. Again.

"ALRIGHT CUT!" Shiro yelled, rolling his eyes. "Someone get Lance to stop choking, for the love of all that is holy. Can we not get through one scene without him almost dying?"

Lance would have snarked back, but... he was kinda otherwise occupied.

Sighing, Keith put both palms against his face, and he almost instantly regretted it.  "Leather does  _ not _ taste good," he muttered, a disgusted grimace entering his expression.   
  
"You aren't supposed to eat the damn gloves, Keith," Pidge called from across the room, where they were untangling a series of wires and reconnecting them to several soundboards.  "They aren't meant for eating."

Keith snorted.  "Well, neither is ass but I seem to do a helluva lot of that," he murmured under his breath.

Without pause, Pidge choked in much the same way Lance had and fell over.

Getting his breath back, Lance muttered, "Well, ass is delicious, so I can't blame you."

Keith smacked a hand over his mouth and had to choke down several loud barks of laughter.  "Well  _ you _ would know!" he called back to the brunet, who had to thunk his head onto the table to keep from laughing in return.

Just when the noirette thought that he had finally caused Lance's death, the man picked his head up and crooned back, "Are you  _ implying _ that I get all the ass around here?"

This statement, which in and of itself was enough to render Keith helpless, was accompanied by an eyebrow wiggle.  Keith couldn't help but retort, "Well, you seem to be interested enough in mine to warrant it!"

"Careful," the brunet murmured, waggling his eyebrows once more.  "I might actually come after yours next if you keep up  _ that _ attitude."

"Alright!" Shiro all but roared from his spot near the cameras.  He had a hand against his forehead and his arm across his chest like he had had them crossed not long before.  "I get that this is the first time you've run this scene, but for fuck's sake, can't we get through one take without one of you choking and the other making some snide ass comment."  He glared at the pair, but Keith couldn't help but feel the laughter bubble in his chest again.

_ Snide  _ ass _ comment.  _ Wasn't his fault that just that phrase on its own was hilarious.

"Just...okay, get back into it!" the director called, and Keith took in a deep breath, trying to get back into Tanner's mindset.  "And Keith, no more improvising!"

"Yeah yeah!"

 

_ Tossing his head back, Lance laughed loudly. "Three bullet holes in your chest will do that to you, Tanner. _

_ When his partner crossed his arms, Lance leaned forward and smiled indulgently at Keith. "Hey, I'm not saying I don't _ like  _ your method; I'm just saying it's not a sustainable model." Leaning back, the man chuckled and said, "Speaking of stumbling into situations of mass destruction, you got any plans for today, or are we gonna get back on the road?" _

_ Picking up the half empty bottle of Cherry Cola that had been abandoned sometime in the past quarter of an hour, Keith took a quick swig.  The carbonated beverage slid down his throat and settled oddly in his gut. "Not unless you do," he answered, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand.  Settling the glass bottle back down onto the scarred, dingy table, the noirette glanced back towards the grime covered windows. There was something about them that seemed...strange.  As if there was someone glaring through them at the pair. _  Probably just my imagination.

_ "Oh, I did wanna stop by Marco's.  I heard he's back in town after...well."  Keith was a little wary of mentioning _ that  _ specific encounter.  It had been a disaster to be sure. _

_ "Come on," Lance joked, waving a hand. "Los Angeles might have been bad, but it was nowhere near's as bad as St. Paul's." Just the mention of that place had Keith groaning, pressing his palm against his forehead. Lance, on the other hand, leaned back and smiled, lost in relatively happy memories. It had been one of their first missions together, and it had gone terribly. Everything that could have gone wrong had, and done so spectacularly in the process. Despite them only escaping with their lives narrowly, it was something Lance looked back on fondly. _

_ Letting out an undignified giggle, the brunet lifted the Diet Mountain Dew to his lips as he mumbled, "God, that woman was a loose cannon but damn could she kiss." Shaking his head, Lance took a drink and set his glass down to find Keith staring at him, unimpressed. His pale skin glowed in the sunlight coming through the window. _

_ "Loose cannon?" Keith muttered, leaning back against the booth so he could stretch his arms out over the top of it.  "She threw you out the broken window of a moving subway car and _ then  _ pistol whipped me, all because we were in her way."  Rolling his eyes, the noirette stared up at the ceiling once more, spying a small spider as it attempted to create a web that connected the wires of the ancient ceiling fan to a beam across the way.  "She wasn't a loose cannon. She was a fucking disaster." _

_ St. Paul had been an _ entire  _ disaster, like a whole ass disaster. They were lucky they escaped with their lives.  "We were lucky that Antoine was a raving lunatic, otherwise we wouldn't have gotten out of there at all." _

_ "Well, it's like they say," Lance commented, twirling his finger in the air as he spoke. "All the good ones are either Gay, Taken, or Completely Batshit." Winking at Keith, Lance finished, "The exception, of course, being yours truly." _

_ Blinking unamused grey eyes, Keith looked back at his partner, the confident glint of amusement in those blue orbs making him want to smack the brunet.  "Yeah...sure. Keep tellin' yerself that, buddy." _

_ There was a momentary pause in both Keith's words and brain activity, because in the next moment he was throwing himself forward into Lance's personal space, hands splayed against the sticky surface of the table.  "Wait, what the hell does that make me then?" _

_ "Are you trying to insinuate that I'm batshit crazy?" Lance asked, leaning away from Keith's frustrated face. "Because c'mon, that's just mean. We all know that you've met crazier." _

_ "That's--!!"  Pausing, Keith let out a frustrated growl.  Sinking back down into the plush seat of the booth, even as some stuffing puffed out of it at the other end, Keith grumbled.  "Look, Aaron, I'm not callin' you crazy." He narrowed his eyes, letting the next words flow off of his tongue in his best southern drawl, "I'm jus' sayin' that stickin' yer dick in crazy makes you crazy adjacent." _

 

"Cut!"

"Oh,  _ what _ the fuck now, Shiro?" Keith roared in the director's general direction.  He didn't want to move his gaze from Lance's, just in case the idiot decided to choke again.

Several people snickered at Keith's tone, and the man let out a deep breath.

"Less backwoods southern, more Texan!"

"Sure, whatever!"

 

_ Puffing out his cheeks, Lance pulled a pitiful expression. "But Maggie was so beautiful~" Just remembering her made him sigh fondly. _

_ "So was Antoine, but that doesn't mean I was gonna fuck 'im!" _

  
**_"CUUUUT!!"_**

In almost perfect synchronicity, Keith and Lance whipped their heads over to where Shiro looked like he was about to rip his own hair out.  Pidge was almost on the floor, cackling their ass off, Coran had his hands against a wall as his entire body shook, and Matt was pounding his fist against the floor.

"Keith!  I think your gay is showing!" Matt snickered,  rolling over onto his back to flail against the concrete.

"Maybe if you had fucked him, you'd be a little less tense," Lance muttered, sipping at his Diet Dew.

"For the love--"

"Really, Lance?"

"I mean, he's not wrong..."

Shiro sighed heavily, dropping his hands so they practically slapped against his thighs.  He looked up towards the ceiling, as if in prayer before saying, "If we ever get through this scene, it'll be a goddamn miracle."

"Hallelujah!" Pidge piped up from where they were huddled under the cart of wires again, cackling.

"RUN IT AGAIN!"

 

_ With a slight cough, Lance let out a distressed groan, "Aw come on, that's not fair, Maggie was beautiful!" _

_ "So am I but that doesn't mean you're gonna fuck me." _

 

"Oh Keith, if you wanted me to, you should have just asked."

As Keith's head thunked against the table, Shiro yelled, "Okay, I've had enough of this! Keith for the love of all that is holy in this world,  _ read the damn line _ . If you improvise one more time, I swear to god-"

"Babe, murder is illegal," Matt reminded Shiro from behind one of the cameras.

Muffled against the crappy linoleum that covered the table, Keith felt his breath puff back against his mouth as he said, "Was that an offer, or are you just yankin' my chain?"

"Well with that attitude it isn't!" Coran announced, clapping his hands together.

Meanwhile, Lance turned red and let out a screech of, "CAN I NOT JOKE AROUND WITH HIM?”

Keith slammed his fist down against the table, almost manic laughter bubbling in his throat to the point that he was choking on it.  Maybe it was due to the fact that they'd both seen each other with their barriers as far down as they could get them, but the noirette felt like their on-screen chemistry was getting better with every botched line. "Coran!   _ The best _ !" he called over to the acting coach, flopping back against the booth seat so he could comb his fingers through his hair and laugh some more.

"Enough already!" Shiro blurted, but all that did was make Keith laugh all the more. 

"I'm so-sorry!" the noirette snickered, looking over at the director apologetically even through bouts of laughter.  "That was just too good!"

"We should probably read the scene properly before Shiro blows something," Lance muttered, leaning in towards Keith conspiratorially. Before the noirette could make another smartass remark, Lance cleared his throat before pulling a face. "I uh... I don't actually remember what your line is supposed to be."

"I just want you two to get through this scene  _ once _ today," Shiro muttered. "I get it, you two are still wound up from last night or  _ something _ , but please take this seriously." 

Giving Shiro a wave of acknowledgement, Lance skipped the line and went to his next one.

 

_ "Well, I'd like to think I've learned my lesson," Lance said with an awkward laugh and a hand on the back of his neck. "But what can I say, it's hard to say no to someone gorgeous." _

Why do you think I have such a hard time saying no to you?

_ Putting his head down, Lance let out a snort. "Thankfully, this place seems pretty calm right now. Let's hope it lasts~" _

_ "With us in town?  It never lasts." Keith muttered, a smirk on his face as he tossed back the last of his soda. _

 

"Okay! Camera change!" Shiro called, and Keith let out a breath.  The carbonation had gotten stuck in his nose when he tried to swallow, and now it was threatening to choke him.

"Why does it have to be Cherry?" he grumbled, sliding out of the booth so he could stretch his legs.  "Of all the flavors, it  _ had _ to be Cherry."

From where he was standing, supervising the change of cameras, Shiro's voice boomed, "Alright, time to bring Allura in!"

Perking up, Lance turned to the door Allura was supposed to burst through soon. There was a short sequence before this, but scene six was being filmed in a different location. For now, he knew they were just switching to scene seven. Which meant that the  _ beautiful _ Allura was going to show up and, if the scene went to plan, crash straight into Lance's arms.

To say he'd been looking forward to this would have been an understatement.

Under the table, he felt Keith's boot dig into his shin. "HEY!" he exclaimed, thumping the table with his knee in an attempt to escape from the noirette's feet. "What the hell was that for?"

"Oh?  Did I do something?" Keith avoided, titling his head and widening his eyes in the most innocent expression he could manage.  Leaning forward towards Lance, he muttered, "Uhm, dude, you've got a little, uh, drool right there." He pointed to the corner of his mouth, and when Lance jumped to wipe it away and found nothing there, Keith just cackled and walked away.

"Stop torturing him, Keith," Coran called from his almost permanent spot against the wall.  "You know his poor bisexual heart cannot take it!"

"EXCUSE ME!?" Lance barked, leaping to his feet and following after Keith, all thoughts of Allura momentarily forgotten. "That's not an answer! You kicked me, what the hell did you do that for?" Frustrated when Keith just chuckled, the brunet called, "Come on! Why are you being such an asshole Keith, I thought you'd gotten over it. First outside and now this!"

Keith stopped, and Lance froze as well, waiting for the man to respond.

Glancing over his shoulder, the noirette smirked.  "Oh, you know, just thought you might want some help not looking like a dog when you meet up with Allura, is all," he said, shrugging, bringing his hands all the way up near his shoulders for an added effect.  Shaking his head he continued, "Wouldn't want a pretty lady to think you're droolin' all over her."

Stalking closer, Lance snapped, "I don't look like dog! And why do you care so much who I do and don't stare at? It's not like it affects you." Honestly, he didn't understand why Keith had to make his life hard. So what if he was a bit of an idiot around the girl he liked, weren't most people a little awkward around the people they were interested in

Turning completely around, Keith scoffed and crossed his arms.  Originally, he had meant the whole thing as a joke, calling back to their argument earlier.  Keith hadn't  _ meant _ for it to come out as nasty as it did, and he thought that Lance would have realized that.   _ Apparently not. _

Rolling his eyes as the brunet continued to stare at him, as if waiting for an answer, Keith remained motionless.  "I was  _ joking _ ," he finally said, dropping his arms.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shiro talking with a blob of white and teal, and he supposed that it must have been Allura, already in costume.  Instead of calling attention to the woman, Keith stepped to the side so Lance wouldn't see her and continued, "I'm sorry that my humor has no meaning for you, but hey  _ that's what happens to idiots. _ "

Why he was trying to keep Lance from seeing Allura, he really didn't know, but having Lance's attention on him, even if was in anger, felt kind of...good.

"Well, maybe you should stop joking," Lance bit out, clenching his fists. "Because it's really not funny." The moment the words left his mouth, the brunet felt something sick curl in his gut.  _ Shit, why did I say that? _ It wasn't true, Keith had a sense of humor, and Lance enjoyed the bits of it he'd seen. Sure he was touchy over this subject but should he have snapped like that? No.

Instantly retreating, watching as Keith's eyes darkened, Lance muttered, "I just- goddamnit..." Turning back towards the set, the brunet let his eyes fall over the constructed room, with it's carefully placed windows and expert lighting that made it look like it was in the middle of nowhere. He'd been looking forward to this sequence, but the whole thing felt soured now.

"We're supposed to be getting along," he mumbled, eyes fixed on the booth they'd just been sitting at. "Last night, I thought we were getting somewhere." Sharply turning to Keith, Lance insisted, "We had a bonding moment! I cradled you in my arms! You slept in my bed, why are you-" When Keith's expression didn't change, the brunet softly said, "Nevermind."

"I don't remember a bit of that, just so you know."   _ Yes, because that's the thing you should focus on. _  Keith knew that he shouldn't be so upset about the entire thing.  Let Lance fall for who he wanted to fall for. If it ended in disaster for him  _ and it would _ then that was his problem.  Keith didn't have to try and save him from the humiliation of it.  "I thought we were getting along fine until you got all defensive. But sure, my fault.  I'm sorry."

Turning, wanting to escape from this entire conversation because  _ obviously _ it was going nowhere, Keith stalked over to where Shiro was.

As Keith vanished from his line of sight, Lance just stood there, feeling lost, guilty, and a whole host of other emotions he wasn't comfortable with. "It's not your fault," he mumbled, even though Keith couldn't hear him anymore. Turning slightly, Lance spotted Allura and Shiro talking to Keith, who had his arms crossed and his back to the brunet. Though usually he would have hurried over there to insert himself into the conversation, desperate to talk to Allura, Lance remembered Keith's comment about him looking like a dog, and he turned away, padding back over to the set.

Settling down on the bench Keith had been occupying, Lance puffed out his cheeks and pressed himself into the cracking vinyl.  _ If I could just get along with him- _ but apparently he couldn't, and it made him feel miserable.

"So, Allura is going to come crashing into the diner through  _ that _ door," Shiro was saying, pointing towards a prop door that already had it's hinges loosened so the woman's impact would send it flying.  "She'll have  _ these _ guys pour in after her," the director continued, pointing at the group of four or five stunt men who were all looking relatively unenthused.  "Keith, you and Lance will be standing up to walk  _ out _ the door and Allura will smack right into Lance, almost knocking him over.  I want to see how it'll look having them actually fall over  _ and _ how it would look with you steadying them.  Whichever you decide to do first is fine."

Keith nodded.  He knew this scene like the back of his hand even though they hadn't even gone through this part of it yet.  He'd practiced it enough with Coran that he could probably do it in his sleep.

He knew he shouldn't be, but he was starting to feel guilty over blowing up at Lance like he had.  The brunet had every right to get annoyed at his joke; he  _ was _ being rather mean.  But there wasn't much he could do to take it back now.

Glancing over at Allura, who had her hair piled on top of her head in some kind of sophisticated coif turned rat's nest, he saw the same light in her eyes that he had seen in Lance's when they started shooting earlier.  That  _ excitement _ , the anticipation at becoming someone else for a period of time.  Keith only hoped he'd be able to match that enthusiasm. At this point, he wasn't sure he would be able to.

Watching as the three of them kept talking, Allura beginning to wave her arms enthusiastically as she expounded on something or other, Lance nibbled on his bottom lip. He watched the woman for a few seconds, reflecting on how pretty she looked with her hair up, but his attentions quickly moved on to Keith, to the seriousness of his expression and the way he nodded along to what Allura was saying.

A bubble of jealousy rose in his chest as Allura grabbed Keith's hands and bounced in excitement before twirling around, a grin on her face. Staring at Keith accusingly, Lance puffed a few strands of hair away from his forehead before sinking down beneath the faux wall, intentionally keeping the pair of them out of view. His stomach kept lurching uncomfortably, however, and it made Lance feel sick. 

Reaching over for his Diet Mountain Dew, even though he probably shouldn't have been touching props when not on camera, Lance took a few sips and huffed. He just didn't want to see them anywhere near each other, which was absolutely  _ stupid _ , even he knew that. But his emotions weren't good at listening to him.

_ Just ignore the whole thing with Allura, focus on what you can do to get along with Keith better. _ Yeah, that was something he could affect. Like tomorrow! Keith had mentioned something about different training sessions he had to do for this movie. Lance had training as well, so he could just do it with Keith, that way, they'd have to spend more time learning to get along. Those thoughts, out of everything, were what brightened Lance's mood slightly.

"Everyone set on where they're supposed to be?" Shiro called around once they'd solidified that they were doing the  _ catch Allura and Lance _ version of the scene.  Most everyone either nodded or said some kind of affirmative phrase.

Everyone but Lance.  Who, when Keith looked around, was nowhere to be found.  "Lance?" he called, raising an eyebrow in confusion.  _ I coulda sworn I just saw him. _  "Lance!?" he called louder, turning to walk back towards the booth.  "Where the hell are you?"

Stopping by the faux wall that had fallen over at least four times since they'd put it up, Keith leaned over the back of the booth.  Spying brunet strands of hair that clung to the underside of the table due to static, Keith smirked slightly to himself.

"Laaaancey Lance!!" he sang.

"That's my earrrr Keithy Keeeiiith," Lance whimpered back, wiggling around on the vinyl.

Snorting at the recall from the night before, Keith crossed his arms on the back of the booth.  "What the hell are you doin' down there?"

"Becoming one with the furniture," Lance muttered, reaching up blindly and hooking an arm around Keith's neck. "You should join me, it's nice down here."

"La--wai--!!"  Due to lack of leverage on Keith's part and far too much strength on Lance's, Keith went tumbling over the edge of the booth, smacking into the vinyl and practically falling into Lance's lap.  With a bark of laughter at the ridiculousness of the entire thing, the noirette reached up and squeezed Lance's cheeks. "The hell was that for, you dipshit!" Despite the edge to his words, the young actor found himself giggling as he watched Lance's face stretch.

Hands settling without thought on Keith's hips, Lance attempted to say, through abused cheeks, "I wanted an armful of sexy, and I got my wish." All the joke earned him was the faux wall falling over once again and Keith snorting, burying his face in the brunet's shoulder.

Though he had no explanation for the warmth that flooded his chest, replacing all the uncomfortable feelings from earlier, Lance embraced it.

"Well, that's one way to put it," the noirette managed to respond after releasing another fit of giggles.  "But if you wanted me here so bad, you coulda just asked." He wasn't quite sure why the entire situation they were now in made him feel so comfortable.  The position itself, the way Keith was situated in Lance's lap, would have normally made the noirette flame as red as the biker jacket he wore as part of Tanner's costume.

Releasing Lance's cheeks, Keith rested his forearms on the man's shoulders.  The studio around them became eerily quiet save for the normal whir of the machinery.  "I think we have an audience," Keith whispered, leaning forward to speak into Lance's ear.

Shivering as Keith's words hit his neck and trailed down his throat, Lance murmured back, "I didn't know you were into that."

"There are many things you don't know that I'm into," Keith muttered back, raising an eyebrow as he hooked his hands together behind Lance's neck.  "Imagine what the tabloids would say if they caught a glimpse of us now."

"Eh, fuck them," Lance flippantly remarked, a smirk working its way onto his face. This was very definitely  _ not _ within the bounds of what was allowed between costars, and somewhere in the back of the brunet's mind, he knew that he was totally looking uncool in front of Allura, but... for some reason he didn't care? "I wonder, what kind of things is Keith Kogane into~ It's a question that's puzzled the world for decades." As he spoke, he moved one of his hands to tug on a lock of Keith's hair playfully.

"Wouldn't  _ you _ like to know."  Keith's voice was a low rumble in the back of his throat.  There was no telling where this sudden  _ flirtation _ came from, but he found that he was having a rather nice time.  In the dark recesses of his mind, the noirette vaguely remembered the disastrous "affair" that had almost destroyed his career, but like the idiot he was, Keith batted that whole topic even further into the "Box of No Return" where he put most of the things that bothered him, including the myriad of computer chords that had died somewhere along the way.

"Are you two quite finished?"

Together, the pair whipped their heads up to see Shiro standing above them, arms crossed as if he was tense, but there was laughter in his expression and something that could have been hopeful suspicion creasing the corners of his eyes.

"And they said they weren't fucking," Pidge clucked, shaking their head and giggling.

"Well, Pidge," Matt said, patting their arm. "Sometimes, people lie. I tried to convince you Shiro and I were just wrestling for three months until you walked in on us f-"

"We should really start the next scene," Shiro cut in, his face going red.

"You're adorable, babe," Matt cooed, poking his husband's cheeks. 

"We're at work," Shiro insisted.

"So?"

"I think starting the scene would be a great idea!" Lance exclaimed, wriggling under Keith and glancing up at him. "Y'know, if this Mullet gets off of me."

"Am I just a mop of hair to you?" Keith fired back, wiggling in return, just to make the situation worse.  But he still ended up climbing off of the brunet, turning so he could look over at their director. "I'm ready whenever you guys are."

There was suddenly a hand put on his shoulder, and Allura leaned over to speak into his ear.  "Please tell me the two of you are a thing?" she whispered, her voice full of interest.

Feeling heat rise in his face, Keith shook her off.  "No, no no. Not in any capacity."

"Mhm,  _ suuuure _ ," the white haired woman cooed, crossing her arms and bumping his hip with hers.  "You know there's a bet going around that the two of you will be a thing by the end of the week."

Sputtering, Keith whirled on her. "WE AREN'T GOING TO BE A THING, ALLURA!!"

"YEAH!" Lance insisted, popping up off of the bench and shoving Keith away, pushing him into the other side of the booth, knocking over his Diet Dew in the process, which naturally spilled all over Keith. "I'm much better than Keith, and anyway, our characters are pretty close, so-" he stopped when Allura started laughing so hard her face went red.

"No no!" she said brightly, clutching onto the side of the booth for support. "You're misunderstanding me Lance~" Straightening and composing herself, the woman said, "I was actually talking about you and Keith!"

"I-! oh...  _ Oh!" _ Pulling a face, Lance shook his head and shivered. "Why on earth would I want to be with Keith, Allura, that's ridiculous! W-who would want to spend time around Keith  _ willingly _ ? The only reason I spend time around him is because Shiro says I have to!"

"Oh, well..." Allura looked slightly crestfallen, which instantly sent guilt crawling up Lance's throat. "I thought I should ask."  _ She's so perfect, she wanted to make sure Keith and I weren't involved before pursuing her feelings for me, _ Lance thought dreamily, smiling like an idiot.  _ How kind of her~ _

Looking down at his soiled shirt and biker jacket, as well as the giant wet stain across the front of his jeans, Keith could already feel the material sticking to his skin.  Glaring up at the brunet, holding his arms wide so he wouldn't get soda in any other places, Keith all but roared, "WHAT THE FUCK LANCE!?"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Shiro grumbled, throwing up his hands so the packet of papers and the clipboard they were attached to flew up into the air, sending the entire script across the studio.  "CAN'T WE GET THROUGH ONE FUCKING SCENE!"

Surging back towards Lance, Keith grabbed onto a second glass of Diet Dew that had been waiting nearby just in case they needed another for the scene and tossed the liquid into Lance's face, drenching the brunet as well.  "Hah! Fuck you!" Keith blurted, laughing as the taller male's makeup began to run down his face along with the large amount of carbonated beverage that was slipping down the front of the man's shirt.

"Oh so  _ that's _ how you wanna play it, huh?" Lance asked, a grimace forming on his face as the soda seeped into his clothing, saturating his collar and making the rest of him feel cloyingly sweet and gross. "Well then-" Snatching up another bottle of Cherry Cola that was resting on the counter, Lance popped it open and without thought dumped it over Keith's head. As the entirety of the bottle emptied out over the man's perfect hair, Lance's expression turned to a grin. "Fuck you too, man."

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?" Shiro demanded, edging his way onto the set and getting between them. "Now we have to not only clean this fucking place up,  _ both of you need to go back to makeup and wardrobe to get yourselves done up again _ !" Groaning, the director put his head down. "What on earth you two? You were doing great this morning, and now it's like we're back to square one."

"It's not my fault Keith looks like a wet cat when he's covered in soda," Lance pointed out, shrugging. "I don't make the rules." 

_ "Well he wouldn't look like a wet cat IF YOU HADN'T DUMPED THAT BOTTLE ON HIS HEAD!!" _ Shiro thundered.

Shaking his head much like a cat would, drops of soda flying everywhere, Keith felt laughter bubble in his throat.  He brought a hand up to wipe his hair to the side and out of his eyes. "That was a good one, Lance!" he said in the midst of his mirth.  Keith wasn't entirely sure why this was suddenly so funny to him, but seeing Lance soaked in the same manner he was was just too hilarious.  "Shiro, lighten up," the noirette called, throwing an arm over Lance's shoulders. "C'mon, let's go see Romelle."

"Oh!" Allura cried, almost hopping over to them, but leaning back out of the spray of soda.  "Tell her I said hi, will you?"

Narrowing cesious eyes at Allura, at the sudden pink tint to her face as soon as Romelle was mentioned, Keith said, "Oh, sure.  Anything else you want me to tell her?"

At that question, the woman's face turned crimson and she shook her head quickly.  "Oh, no no. Just...just hi..." she muttered, looking down at her fingers and picking at one expertly manicured nail.  "That's all."

A cheshire grin spread over Keith's face.   _ She's totally got a thing for Romelle. _  "Will do, Allura."

Allowing himself to be pulled away from the set, Lance found himself chuckling as well. "Sorry about knocking you into the table," he said sheepishly, shifting out from under Keith's arm so he could put his own arm around the the shorter male's shoulders. "I hope you aren't bruised anywhere."

"Eh, I don't bruise all that easily, unlike  _ someone _ I know," Keith replied, poking at Lance's side with his elbow.  "What about you? I almost hit you  _ in the face _ with that glass."  He could feel soda seeping into his shoes  _ somehow, _ and his feet squished every time he took a step.  With sticky fingers, he tugged at the material of his shirt, pulling it away from his chest in an attempt to get it to not fuse to his skin.  "I knew Mountain Dew was sticky, but damn, Cherry Cola is a thousand times worse."

"Oh well, the only thing bruised is my ego," Lance joked, laughing as his fingers started to get stuck to Keith's clothing. "Oh no," he said, in a flat drawl. "I think your clothing is trying to escape you and come with me." Lifting up his hand and chuckling when Keith's shirt started to pull away from the noirette, Lance joked, "Apparently, I'm not the only one who wants you out of those clothes." With his other hand, he started ticking off things as he said, "There's Shiro, there's the soda, there was Antoine, apparently..."

"Dude, I have no idea where that line even  _ came from _ !" Keith blurted, his shoe slipping on the floor.  Grabbing onto Lance's shirt, he tried to steady himself.  "But seeing the look on Shiro's face was  _ priceless _ ."

"Fuck, I thought I was gonna choke again," Lance admitted, steadying Keith and pulling him up so they were eye-level. Chuckling, staring into Keith's eyes, Lance found himself quickly running out of breath for no reason whatsoever. He'd never really noticed just how beautiful Keith's eyes were, but now that he had, he couldn't look away.

"If you do end up choking again, Shiro might  _ actually _ throttle you, ya know," came Keith's answer, his fingers twisted in the fabric of the flannel Lance wore.  He smirked up at the brunet, before he de-tangled his hand from the shirt to reach up and move a lock of chocolate hair out of Lance's face.

"Yeah, well, I'd have died getting to hear you deliver one of the best lines in existence," Lance commented, leaning over Keith slightly and smiling gently. "So I mean, it would have been a good death."

"How about we make an agreement that  _ neither _ of us will die?" Keith offered, stepping back just a bit.  His pants were starting to chafe as the soda dried and it was  _ not _ a good feeling.  "C'mon, let's get to Romelle so Shiro doesn't come looking for us."

Feeling slightly disappointed as Keith backed off, though unable to explain why, Lance shook himself and stretched, groaning as his clothing clung to him in all the wrong places. "Y'know, clean clothes sound great." Laughing, he muttered, "I've had enough Diet Mountain Dew to last a lifetime."

"I don't even  _ like _ Cherry Cola," Keith grumbled in return, sneering down at his ruined clothing.  He actually liked the wardrobe for this movie. He hated to think that they'd ruined his favorite part, the jacket.   _ I might take this off set once we're done with the movie to be honest. _  Hooking his arm around Lance's waist for no reason other than for leverage in case one of them toppled over, he tugged them in the direction of Hair & Makeup.

Without complaint, Lance followed, feeling better than he had all day. "Hey, I just wanted to say, I'm sorry for being so defensive earlier about Allura. I snapped at you. It was wrong." Though the words came out slightly awkward and stilted, he meant every one of them.

Shrugging, although all it did was shove his shoulder into Lance's armpit, Keith answered, "Nah, don't worry about it.  I was being pretty mean with my jokes. I didn't actually think you looked like a dog." Pausing, Keith smiled softly. "I  _ have _ a dog, and you are  _ nothing _ like her."

"I- Good?" Lance asked, tilting his head. "I guess I'd have to meet your dog to tell if that's an insult or not."

"Well, I mean, she's adorable and pretty and such a good girl."  Keith felt himself start to babble. "She's big and fluffy and playful and sometimes she knocks me over, but she does it in a way that's just so friggin' cute that I can't  _ deal _ ."  His face lit up as he talked about his sweet girl.  Lance snickered beside him, and he lowered his head.  "What I mean..." the noirette grumbled. "Is that she's gorgeous in her way, and you're attractive in a...human type of way?"

"Well Keith," Lance said, still chuckling softly. "I think you're attractive in a human sort of way too."

Stepping away from the brunet, Keith put a fist forward and lightly punched Lance's shoulder.  "Thanks for the compliment, bro."

"Well,  _ well _ ,  **_well_ ** ."  The door beside then creaked open, and bright white light spilled out of the room, blinding them slightly.  "I never would have expected it to be the  _ two of you _ outside of my department."  Keith and Lance were greeted with the proud face of the backbone of their Hair & Makeup, Romelle, as she stood before them, arms crossed over her form fitting black smock.  With caramel tresses braided and piled atop her head, Keith could have compared her to some kind of Roman goddess. "The  _ last _ time the two of you were here, YOU DESTROYED HALF OF MY MAKEUP!!"

Smiling nervously, Keith brought a hand up to card sticky fingers through even stickier hair.  "Heyyy, Romelle."

"Yeah, uh, sorry about that makeup," Lance said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But, y'know, collateral damage and all of that."

"Mhm." She sounded duly unimpressed. "What did you two do this time."

"So you see," the brunet began, putting his hands forward to gesticulate along with his words. "There was this  _ table _ , yeah? And then Keith just so happened to fall into it, but there was  _ soda _ , you following me? So this soda goes crashing down over him and-"

"YOU PRACTICALLY THREW IT AT ME!" Keith fired back, throwing up his hands.

"Yeah, that!" Lance exclaimed, smiling brightly. "Think you've got a change of clothes for us?"

Sighing, the woman said, "Yes, I do. You're lucky I've worked with you before, Lance. I know how bad you are about keeping things clean." Smiling at Keith, Romelle reassured him, "I have something for you too."

"Oh really?  What is it?" Keith said, curiosity sending his voice up several octaves.

Instantly, the blonde's face fell and she said, unimpressed,  "Clothing...obviously."

Freezing, Keith let out a small, awkward laugh.  "Heh… Oh..."

"Clothing sounds great!" Pulling Keith towards Romelle, Lance announced, "Let's get changed before Shiro kills us both." As he passed by the woman, Lance added, "And maybe we can get some wet wipes or something. I could really go for a few moist towelettes."

"I'll see what I can do," Romelle muttered. "Come on, let's get you two fixed up." And with that, she closed the door behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _[End Scene]_


End file.
